Winter is Coming
by TheLycanKing
Summary: A Night's Watch deserter is tracked down outside of Winterfell, prompting swift justice from Lord Eddard "Ned" Stark, and raising concerns about the dangers in the lawless lands north of the Wall. King Robert is on his way north to offer Ned the position of the King's Hand. Across the Narrow Sea in Pentos, Viserys Targaryen hatches a plan to win back the throne.
1. Chapter 1 - Beyond the Wall

Castle Black, which is known to be one of the primary bases of the Night's Watch within the Wall that borders between the north and Beyond the Wall. Under the orders of Lord Commander Jeor Mormont, three rangers named Ser Waymar Royce of House Royce, Gared Tuttle of House Tuttle, and William Cerwyn of House Cerwyn, were preparing to embark on a ranging mission in search of a band of wildling raiders that were said to have been seen within the Haunted Forest. They enter the tunnel leading to beyond the Wall, eventually emerging on the other side, where they continue on into the Haunted Forest, all of them branching off in different directions.

Waymar Royce was handsome, graceful and slender, with grey eyes. He wears leather boots, woolen pants, moleskin gloves, a sable cloak, and ringmail over layers of wool and boiled leather, all in black. Wielding a longsword, the hilt of which is decorated with jewels, Waymar displays a sense of entitlement as well as arrogance towards more experienced members of the Night's Watch. As a third son of a lord, Waymar had very few chances at wealth or land, so he decided to join the Night's Watch.

Gared Tuttle was the nephew of Lord Duncan Tuttle of House Tuttle that lived in the northern kingdom. After his uncle became the Lord and about three sons, Gared decided to join the Night's Watch and serve under Lord Commander Jeor Mormont, whom he favored as a father.

William looked around the forest when his horse nickers nervously. "Easy, boy..."

William climbs off his horse first and goes off to go scout the clearing on foot. He slowly approaches what appears to be a small camp. Fearing that the Wildlings would ambush him, he slowly crawls through the snow to better conceal himself. He finally reaches the camp, only to find that it has been completely ransacked, with the brutally mutilated corpses of multiple wildlings scattered all around the area. Upon seeing this with his own eyes, William was clearly terrified at what he sees and runs off, only to appear in front of the body of a wildling child skewered on a tree branch. As he started to panic, he immediately runs off, getting back on his horse.

Evantually, William managed to find Waymar and Gared. Waymar had been spending his time in messing with the saddle on his horse, not wanting to look at either Gared or William.

"What d'you expect? They're savages," Waymar stated that his facts were correct about the Wildlings. "One lot steals a goat from another lot and before you know it, they're ripping each other to pieces."

"I've never seen wildlings do a thing like this!" William exclaimed in a panic. "I've never seen a thing like this, not ever in my life!"

"How close did you get?" Waymar asked.

"Close as any man would," William nervously answered.

"We should head back to the Wall," Gared suggested

Waymar turned to Gared and condescended as he asked. "Do the dead frighten you?"

"Our orders were to track the wildlings," We tracked them. They won't trouble us no more.

"You don't think he'll ask us how they died?" Waymar asked and let out a scoff. "Get back on your horse."

Gared huffs, clearly not pleased with Waymar giving him orders since he was not an officer within the Night's Watch. He grumbles under his breath as he walks off.

"Whatever did it to them could do it to us," William fearfully warned. "They even killed the children!"

"It's a good thing we're not children," Waymar smirked. "You want to run away south... run away. Of course, they will behead you as a deserter… if I don't catch you first." He stares at Will, who continued to remain nervous about going forward or even thinking of deserting the Night's Watch, and firmly gives him an order. "Get back on your horse. I won't say it again."

William was hesitant at first, but finally relents since he hated disobeying orders, and mounts back on his horse, who continued to nicker nervously. William could tell that something was not right around here and feared that it wasn't the Wildlings, but something else lurking within the Haunted Forest. He slowly rides with Gared and Waymar and leads them to the spot where the Wildings were killed. The three of them make a complete stop, dismount, and slowly move on foot. Once they approach the area with the corpses on foot, they hold their swords drawn, but just when they get there, all of the corpses were gone.

Waymar enters the camp and looks around and sighs with a hint of annoyance. "Your dead men seem to have moved camp."

"They were here," William panicked, looking around the forest. "I swear they were here."

"We need to go," Gared said, looking wary.

"Not until we find those savages that were spying," Raymar refused to back down on this.

"Waymar don't be a fool, we need to go back," Gared hastily said. "If we stay for too long until nightfall, will die."

"If you and Will are too cowardly to move on, I will do this on my own," Waymar answered.

William couldn't stand this and he starts to backtrack while Waymar continues to move forward to investigate with Gared following him since he didn't want to leave him behind. Waymar and Gared move on towards another clearing which wasn't too far from the abandoned camp. That was when Gared made a complete halt when he noticed something under the white snow. He bends over to pick it up to examine. It is some kind of torn-up red cloth.

"What is it?" Waymar asked.

Before Gared can tell him, a mysterious creature emerges from behind Waymar. Gared noticed the creature and looks horrified upon seeing it. Waymar notices Gared's look and immediately turns around. Theywe briefly see that the creature was none other than a White Walker.

White Walkers were an ancient race of formerly-human ice creatures who came from the Far North of Westeros. They were thousands of years old, coming from the time preceding the Age of Heroes. Born of powerful and untested magic, they were created to protect the Children of the Forest from the First Men, who had waged war on them ever since they had arrived from Essos. However, the White Walkers eventually broke free of the Children's control and became the most feared creatures in Westeros, posing a threat to anything living.

Eight thousand years before Robert's Rebellion, the longest winter in history fell on the entire world and lasted a whole generation. In the darkness and cold of the Long Night, the White Walkers descended upon Westeros from the Far North, killing all in their path and reanimating the dead as wights to serve as their footsoldiers in their army of the dead. Eventually, the people of Westeros rallied against them and, in a conflict known as the War for the Dawn, defeated the White Walkers and drove them back into the frozen Far North. With help from giants and the Children of the Forest, the Wall was raised to bar their return. The Night's Watch was founded to guard the Wall and the realms of men should the mysterious threat ever rise again.

Elsewhere in the forest, William is wandering alone when he hears Gared screaming in the distance. All three of the horses are seen galloping away, clearly panicked. William watches them go with a combined look of confusion and fright. He looks in the direction the horses came from, only to see a small figure standing there. William stares at the figure, but as it slowly turns around, he was horrified to see that it was the dead Wildling Girl he previously saw from the abandoned camp. William froze, but since he couldn't stop staring at the dead Wildling Girl with icy blue eyes, he begins to run away as fast as he can through the forest.

That was when he bumped into Gared in anothing clearing. They both look up and realize they are in the same clearing. The two huddle together, but at that very moment, the same White Walker emerged again. Gared and William were terrified upon seeing the White Walker with their very own eyes. That was when they saw someone else appraoching from behind the White Walker. It was Waymar Royce. For a second, Gared and William thought that he was here to save them by his attempt to strike the Walker from behind, but wasn't it. Fear struck them when they saw that Waymar's eyes were icy blue and the inside of his clothing was covered in blood.

The two quickly make a run for it just as Waymar holds his sword and chases after them. The White Walker watches chatters in a strange language before turning a different way.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Dire Wolves of the North

On the outskirts of Winterfell, the stronghold of House Stark, the Great House of the North, a group of Stark riders led by Captain Cayn Reed of House Reed were riding and chasing after someone, who is revealed to be William Cerwyn. William doesn't get very far before he's surrounded by riders, two of whom point spears at him.

"You're a long way from Castle Black, ranger," Cayn said.

"Please, I came to deliver a warning to the Lord of Winterfell," William warned.

* * *

In Winterfell's main courtyard, Bran Stark had been practicing archery with his brother Robb Stark and as his half-brother Jon Snow. Bran fires an arrow, but it misses the target, instead hitting a barrel. Bran stomps his foot in frustration, but Jon goes over to put his arm around Bran's shoulders.

"Go on," Jon encouraged him. "Father's watching. And your mother."

They both glance up at an upper walkway, where their father, Lord Eddard Stark, along with his wife, Lady Catelyn Stark, and nephew Edward Stark were watching. Eddard gives Bran an encouraging nod when they make eye contact, in which Bran nods back. Bran wasn't willing to give up and so he prepares to fire another arrow. He fires another arrow, but misses the target completely.

"Don't think too much, Bran," Jon instructed him.

Bran raises his bow again and takes aim at the target. He thinks he might miss again, but Jon and Robb had always been there to encourage him not to give up.

"Relax your bow arm," Robb calmly instructed him also.

Bran pulls the arrow back and prepares to fire, but that was when an arrow is shown hitting the direct center of the target. Jon and Robb noticed that Bran wasn't the one who fired it. They look back, only to see that it was their sister Arya holding a bow, showing a bemused look on her face. Bran was annoyed that she was the one who fired the arrow.

"Come here!" Bran angrily shouted.

"Catch me if you can!" Arya laughed.

* * *

Elsewhere across the courtyard of Winterfell, Jeren Hill, who was known to be the bastard son of Tyrion Lannister and one best, but strongest knights of the Seven Kingdoms, had been teaching one of his students Domeric Snow the Water Dance. Jeren was about seventeen years old and had started his training at the age of seven. For the last ten years, Jeren trained very hard to learn the Water Dance from his mentor Syrio Forel. Once his training was complete, Jeren held hope that his father would legitimize him, in which he would earn the surname Lannister. Jeren was patient enough to wait and would never ask his father of when he would be legitimized.

As for Domeric, he was well over ten years old, with black hair and gold eyes. He was born to Lord Roose Bolton and Lady Lady Bethany of House Ryswell, making him the younger brother of Ramsay Bolton. At the age of six, Domeric served four years as a page in Barrowton to his aunt, Lady Barbrey Dustin, and then squired for three years for Lord Horton Redfort. In the Vale of Arryn, Domeric enjoyed the company of Horton's sons and began to consider them brothers. After returning from the Vale to the Dreadfort, Domeric and his brother Ramsay would be legitimized by their father due to learning that they had an elder half-brother whom they never met and were both natural sons.

"No fair," Domeric groaned and complained as he got up.

"Training will be never be fair once you learn to master the Water Dance," Jeren explained during the training. "It takes time. When I was your age, I always complain like a lap dog."

Domeric took a moment to pick his sword up and began to ask his friend and mentor something. "Can I come with you?"

"Come with me where?" Jeren asked, confused.

"To King's Landing," Domeric answered excitedly. "I want to see the Iron Throne up close with my own eyes."

"Domeric, I already told a few times, I can't take you and when my father arrives very soon, I have to return home," Jeren explained the issue and walked up closer to him and laid his hand on his right shoulder. "I understand you're eager to see it and I know you will. Tell you what, when I come back at the end of spring, I'll talk to your father."

"He may say 'no'," Domeric stated.

"Will see," Jeren smiled and took a few steps back, and held his sword tightly in his right hand. "Now c'mon, let's finish up."

Just before Domeric and Jeren were about to continue training of the Water Dance, Jon Snow and Robb Stark came up to join the two and watch them practice. Robb seemed amazed on how Jeren had just dodged and swung around to avoid Domeric's sudden blows.

"What kind of training is that?" Jon asked, scoffing.

"You never heard of the Water Dance Jon?" Jeren asked.

"Is that something you made up?" Jon asked with a smile.

"Why don't you show me what you can do?" Jeren insisted for Jon to challenge him.

"You want one of us to challenge you?" Robb asked, started to laugh.

"Why not?" Jeren sighed and planted the point of his sword on the dirt. "Strike me."

"What say you?" Jon asked his brother.

"Allow me!" Theon shouted across the courtyard and walked over towards Jeren. "Gonna teach you and your student a little lesson, lad."

"Getting desperate Theon?" Jeren chuckled in delight.

Theon ignored his laugh and swung his sword to strike, only for Jeren to be quick enough to avoid his strike. This gave Jeren the chance to kick Theon from behind with his mudded boot. Jon and Robb were truly amazed how quick Jeren was just as Theon landed on the ground hard, but wasn't hurt. He groaned a bit, but immediately got up. He turns around and saw how Jeren smirked at him, but immediately began to attack him once again.

* * *

On top of the balcony, Ned Stark and his three year old grandson Edward Stark were standing on the balcony, watching a lot of people walk around, train with their swords, and talk as they always do. Ned is the head of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell, and Warden of the North. Eddard was born at Winterfell as the second son of Lord Rickard Stark and Lady Lyarra Stark. He had one older brother, Brandon, and two younger siblings, Lyanna and Benjen.

As Lord Stark continued to watch, his wife Catelyn gently picked up her grandson just as Lord Rodrik Cassel and Cayn Reed arrive, and gave the honorable Lord and Lady an honorable bow. Ser Rodrik was a stout man, broad, with large white whiskers. He does not like music, but was highly loyal to the Starks and very courageous. Cayn Reed, a member of House Reed, served as one of the guardsmen and men-at-arms to House Stark. He had a son named Calon Reed.

"Lord Stark," Ser Rodrik greeted him and Lady Stark with respect and began to bring them information. "Captain Reed here just rode in from the hills. He and his men captured a deserter from the Night's Watch."

"He's from House Cerwyn," Cayn informed as well.

Ned was very alarmed by this and felt troubled to hear about this. Knowing that House Cerwyn was one of the closest bannermen to the Starks for many centuries since its founding, Ned feared that if the deserter is executed by him, it would probably trigger a war between the Cerwyns and the Starks. However, he had to go through with the law for those from the Night's Watch that break their oath will be executed.

"Get the lads to saddle their horses," Ned commanded.

Catelyn believed it was wrong for a deserter to be executed and chose to go up against it. "Do you have to do this?"

"I'm sorry Cat, but that man swore an oath," Ned regretfully apologized to his wife.

"The law is law, my lady," Ser Rodrik told her of the laws, but truly respected how she felt.

"This law is abomination," Catelyn stated.

"Take Little Ed to his chambers," Ned ordered, and just before his wife turns to leave, he gave a deep sigh. "And tell Rickon and Bran they're coming too."

Catelyn was even more disappointed than ever and turns around to face him. "Ned, Bran is way to young to see such things. Can that wait?"

"He won't be a boy forever," Ned told her, but truly expressed his regret in telling his wife that. "Children grow up and they must learn the value of nobility, oaths, and honor."

"Then call off the execution and have the deserter return to the Night's Watch," Catelyn insisted. "Lord Commander Jeor Mormont can deal with this himself."

"I'm afraid that's not up to me to decide," Ned answered as he turns away to leave and gave Rodrik a gently pat on his shoulder. "Get the boys to saddle up."

"By your leave, my lord," Rodrik complied and gave Catelyn a look on his face as she held Edward in her arms. He nodded his head and whispered. "I'm sorry."

Catelyn didn't bother to respond to all this and immediately chose to leave with her grandson while Rodrik watched her silently leave. He could tell how deeply disgraced this was.

"I know what its like my lord," Cayn nodded, understanding.

"Perhaps she's right," Rodrik sighed with his eyes closed.

* * *

Theon continued to fight Jeren, but everytime he kept on dodging his strikes. Jeren continued to smile which started to anger Theon for all this humiliation. Bran was finished with his archery lessons and came over with Rickon to watch the fight.

"C'mon Theon," Bran laughed.

"You were right, Theon, this is a good lesson," Jeren continued to smile and turned to stare at Domeric. "Now this is whats it called to Water Dance."

Suddenly, Theon charged and lunged his sword, this time Jeren used his sword to defend himself. Theon was quick, but Jeren was much quicker, in which he was fast enough to avoid another strike. He managed to get behind Theon and used his sword to hit Theon from behind, causing him to fall down. Theon quickly got up and was ready to fight.

"Theon, that's enough," Robb ordered.

"He's right," Ned said, walking over to the group with his sword Ice in his hand. "Training is over. Come."

"Father?" Jon responded in confusion.

"Jon, when you join the Night's Watch, you must learn what it means to be a ranger," Ned tutored him. "Otherwise, there will be consequences."

Jon began to realize something. "You caught a deserter."

"And you know what will happen," Ned said.

Jeren wasn't too thrilled to hear this and decided to speak. "My lord, I don't mean to go up against this, but perhaps there should he better way to resolve this."

"What would have me do?" Ned asked.

"What I learned from my father that mercy is never a weakness, but sometimes it is fair to give one a chance to prove that either he or she could undo the mistakes," Jeren explained about what mercy was like. "You can either keep the deserter as your own personal servant forever or send him back to the current Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."

"Your father would be proud," Ned remarked on his words and deeply sighed. "Truly, your carry a great sense of compassion and honor. But I'm sorry." He turns to focus on his four sons. "Saddle up."

* * *

After departing Winterfell, Ned Stark sits on his motionless horse, for he had spent hald his life training for war and the other half waging it, and his face conveys both authority and a sadness that has haunted him ever since the rebellion to overthrow the Aerys II Targaryen, who was known so many people as the "Mad King". Accompanied by Robb, Jon, Theon, Ser Rodrik, Jeren, Domeric, Rickon, Bran, and a dozen member of the Household Guard, all on horseback. Over their heads flaps the Stark banner: a gray direwolf racing across an ice-white field.

South of the wall, the greenish grass was very still and the sun was shining, but the air was very cold enough to cloud the breath of four guardsmen as they escort William Cerwyn toward the stump of a massive oak tree. Weeks have passed since William had deserted the Night's Watch, but he seems to have aged years, for which his eyes were bloodshot and weary, his face a bit haggard, and his clothes were torn and filthy.

Bran, for instance, was sitting very still, watching the doomed man. He has never seen an execution before and was going to be the first one today to see it. However, the prospect of it terrified him, but he tries hard to imitate his father's solemn expression. Even Jon and Jeren could notice of how William was terrified, but it didn't seem as if he was afraid to be executed for desertion. There was something else that the deserter was afraid, but of what?

"White Walkers," William muttered. "I saw the White Walkers. White Walkers. The White Walkers, I saw them." He then turns to face the Lord of Winterfell and starts to cry for what he had done in deserting the Night's Watch. "I know I broke my oath. And I know I'm a deserter. I should have gone back to the Wall and warned them. But I saw what I saw. We thought they were gone, but we were wrong. I saw the White Walkers. People need to know. If you can get word to my family, tell them I'm no coward. Tell them..." He paused and sniffed, then continued. "Tell them I'm sorry. Please my lord, tell them of my mistake."

"And that I will," Ned nodded respectfully.

"Thank you, my lord," William continued to cry and positioned himself on the tree limb that serves as a block.

Ned is clearly not comfortable with what he has to do, but he had to do what was important to follow the law. His ward, Theon Greyjoy, hand over Ned's sword: Ice, a beautiful weapon which was centuries old. Despite living in the North, Theon was the only one in the group to be wearing the symbol of a kraken instead of a direwolf, meaning that he was from another noble house. Ned peels off his gloves and hands them to Jory Cassel of House Cassel, who was recognized as a great bull-necked warrior.

Taking a moment since he feels a sign of shame of what he was going to do, Ned felt clearly troubled since he studied the condemned man's face, judging his honesty. He walks to the stump and starts to bow his head over the sword. There is a great weariness in Ned's eyes once both his hands tighten around the hilt of his great sword. Rickon kept his eyes focused on the execution, but was a bit frightened of what he was going to see. Bran tries not to look, but Jon knew what he was doing.

"Keep the pony hand and don't look away," Jon quietly encouraged his little brother. "Father will know if you and Rickon do."

"This is not right, Jon," Jeren sighed in ignorance of why Rickon and Bran had to be here.

"Are you his father?" Jon calmly asked.

"Say that to me again Jon and see what happens," Jeren warned him with a slight glare.

"Then if you don't want to be there with Domeric, you can take him now, but Bran and Rickon stay with us until the execution is done," Jon glared back at him.

Jeren couldn't stand for this and was ready to take Domeric away just as Ned continued to bow his head over Ice. He briefly turns his face towards Bran, who was keeping his pony well in hand and wasn't looking away.

"In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, first of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm," Ned spoke in tones to William. "I, Eddard of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, sentence you to die."

Before Ned was ready to deliver the killing blow while William closed his eyes, a cavalry of 300 soldiers arrived at the scene. These soldiers were from House Cerwyn and the person under the command of the cavalry was Lord Medger Cerwyn. Ned, Robb, and Jon didn't seem to pleased to see him arrive and began to wonder how they learned of this. Making a stop, Medger and more than 45 of his men dismount while the rest stay on their horses.

"Lord Stark," Medger said, giving the Lord of Winterfell with a greeting.

"Lord Cerwyn," Ned greeted back. "You come at a very unpleasant time."

"I've come to collect my nephew," Medger told him.

"Your nephew swore an oath to the Night's Watch," Ned began to explain. "He broke..."

"And that was not his intent," Medger interrupted. "It was my doing for sending him to poach in those woods. I came all this way from Castle Cerwyn to bring him back... unharmed."

"Lord Cerwyn," Ser Rodrik spoke on Lord Stark's behalf. "Your nephew has to answer for what he did. He deserted the Night's Watch and you know the law."

"That kind of law means nothing to me," Medger responded, refusing to accept it. "Those laws are too old for the likes of me and my family. Too old in my liking. I am to collect my nephew at once or House Cerwyn will no longer be loyal to you if you kill him. You will start a war between my family and yours, and we will not forget."

"Please, my lord, there is no need to start a war," Ned pleaded. "There is no honor in this."

"Then tell me now, Lord Stark, where is your honor?" Medger asked, giving him a glare. "If you do this, I will not forget... and I will not forgive."

Lord Stark was hesitant since House Cerwyn has been loyal to House Stark for centuries since its founding in the northern kingdom. He closed his eyes and slowly opens them.

"You can have him," Ned answered.

"By your honor, my lord," Medger bowed his head.

"Thank you, uncle," William continued to gasp and cry at the same time as he mounted on a horse that was given to him.

"C'mon boy, let's go home," Medger said.

Immediately, Lord Medger and his troops saddle up and prepare to leave, leaving the Starks alone. Robb was disappointed at first, but he knew what was necessary since his family didn't want to start a war against the Cerwyns. He turns and puts his arm around Bran. Jeren and Domeric didn't say a word at all as they saddled up. Just as Jon helps Rickon up to his horse, Ned hands Ice to a guard and then mounts on his war horse. He turns his horse around and slowly gallops towards where his young son Bran was, who had just readied his pony and mounts on top.

"You understand why I did it?" Ned asked.

Bran turn's his saddle, feeling a bit startled when he saw his father, who was already mounted on his great warhouse, for which the Lord Stark looms above his son like a giant.

"Jon said he was deserter," Bran answered when he gave his father a nod. "He was in the Night's Watch and he ran away, but then you let him go. You let him live. Why?"

Even when speaking with his son, Ned constantly surveys his surroundings, aware of his men's positions, the possible sites for an ambush, and an angle of the sun.

"If I killed him, it would've started a war between us and the Cerwyns," Ned answered. "I couldn't risk that."

Bran thinks about this for a few seconds, confused until he asks his father a question. "Does King Robert have a headsman?"

"He does," Ned answered. "As did the Targaryen kings before him." Then, he reaches out to grab the pommel on Bran's saddle. He forces the horse and pony to walk very close. "Our way is the old way. The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword."

Bran stares at his father's massive sword that was sheathed in the hip and then asks another question. "Is it true he saw the White Walkers?"

Ned stares at his son for a long beat. "You heard that?" He takes a long pause and goes on to explain to his son. "The White Walkers have been gone for eight thousands years."

"So he was lying?" Bran asked if that was case.

Ned was uneasy when he decided to answer his question. "He believed it. A madman sees what he sees." Then, he speaks towards Jeren and Domeric, speaking to them. "I guess you were lucky today."

"If they hadn't come, then he wouldn't be lucky and then House Cerwyn would marshal their troops and march directly to attack Winterfell," Jeren sighed. "But I will tell you this my lord, I don't think that man was acting mad in his mind. I could tell by the look of his eyes of how terrified he was. But I can be wrong, he could've been. Maybe he was making this up or telling the truth."

"You may have a good and most honorable point," Ned nodded, feeling proud of Jeren's words. "Your father would be really proud of you."

"Accept, I don't have the Lannister name," Jeren reminded him.

"Jeren, one day, you will earn that surname, and people all around Westeros will recognize you as a Lannister," Ned said. "Once you have it, you will feel proud of yourself."

"And what about Jon, have you thought of giving him the Stark name?" Jeren asked.

"I've been trying that every year, but Catelyn always shuts me out of it," Ned sighed.

"Jon is family to you, he deserves it," Jeren suggested.

"That is why he's not ready," Ned said. "But, one day, he will be... once he learns the truth of his mother."

* * *

Ever since the near execution of William Cerwyn of House Cerwyn, Bran Stark felt a sign of fear in his own eyes. He felt that the former deserter was telling the truth about the White Walkers and it didn't seem like he was mad at all. Despite proud to be treated like a man, he began to imagine that if his father executed the deserter, he would not look or even walk away at all.

Feeling relieved by this, Bran feared that he might be forced to see future executions if others comitted treason across the Seven Kingdoms, especially those who lived in the North for many centuries since its founding. rides with his brothers, his hard-working pony trying to keep up with the bigger horses. Along with Jeren, Domeric, Jon, Robb, and Rickon, who were racing down the hill, Bran had been trying to keep up with them, but since they had bigger horses, he felt a bit jealous that he had to ride on a small one.

"I thought he was brave," Jon said.

"Brave?" Theon scoffed. "He was dead of fear. You could see it in his eyes."

"Then tell me, Theon, what would be in your eyes with your head on the stump?" Jeren asked as a sign of a warning of it would be like if Ned would ever behead him.

"He's right, father let him go for the sake of risking war between the Starks and the Cerwyns," Robb agreed to his brother's words. "Try and remember that."

Theon considers the point for a moment and shrugs, already losing interest in the subject. Then, he began to suggest something in excitement. "Race you to the bridge?"

Jon rolls his eyes as if he's beyond then, without warning, he spurs his head start. Robb sighs and follows. Jeren gives Domeric a nod and a smile, and immediately, the two laugh as they started to gallop very quick to catch up with Jon. Robb sighs and follows them next. As they gallop off down the trail, both Robb and Jeren were laughing and hooting while Jon was silent. He turns around and saw that Bran's pony can't compete in the race. Sharing a lot of sympathy for his younger brother like he had before ever since he was born, Jon decided to fall out of the race and stay with Bran to keep him company.

Jeren won the race, but that was when he began to notice something from up ahead. He turns around and waves urgently as he calls Ned. "Lord Stark, over here!"

* * *

Just as Ned's party reaches the riverbank, Jeren dismounted beside Jon and Robb while Bran and Rickon stay behind their father Ned with the rest of their party. Jory and Theon dismount from their horses and approach Jeren, Robb, and Jon. When Jory sees what lies on the ground beside Robb, Theon spat and pulls his horse away just Ser Jory does the same.

"Get away from it!" Jory yelled.

"She can't hurt you," Robb said. "She's dead."

Burning with curiosity, Bran spurs his pony to keep up with his father as they appraoch the others, who are all dismounted from their horses.

"What is it?" Jeren asked.

Bran finally gets close enough to see and out of shock and surprise, he saw that it was a wolf, but not just a wolf, a female dire wolf. The dead dire wolf was very huge, even bigger than Bran's pony.

"I know what it is, its a freak," Theon joked.

"Its a wolf, Theon," Jeren sighed in annoyance.

"No, its a dire wolf," Jon corrected.

Ned kneels beside the dead female dire wolf, Groping under the beast's head, he gives a yank and comes up with a foot of shattered antlet, slick with half-dried blood.

"I've heard of dire wolves before," Jeren said and explained of what he knows. "My father told me there haven't been any that were south of the Wall for nearly two hundred years. They may be predators in nature, but they are very smart. Its a pity she got separated from her pack."

"No... she didn't," Jon answered. "There are five little pups."

When Bran sees what everyone is staring at, his eyes widen in surprise. He moves in to get a closer look and saw that his brother Robb was holding a dire wolf pup, which was described to be a tiny ball of gray-black fur, eyes still closed, nuzzling blindly against Robb's chest, and whimpering in fear.

"Tough old bear, wasn't she?" Jory remarked. "Birthing a litter with an antlet in her throat."

Robb turns to his brother Bran and says, "Go on. You can touch him."

Bran gives the pup a quick, nervous stroke, and turns to Jon.

"Here you go," Jon insisted.

Jon thrusts another pup into Bran's arms. Overjoyed, Bran plops down in the snow and rubs the wolf pup's soft fur against the cheek. Ned picks up two more helpless pips, one in each hand as Jon picks up the fifth. Hullen, who served House Stark as one of the best horse masters in the North, noticed the direwolves.

"Direwolves loose in the realm," Hullen frowned.

"Not for long," Theon said as he draws his sword and reaches for Bran's pup. "Give it here."

"No, its mine!" Bran cried.

"Put the sword away," Robb speaks to Theon in a commanding tone. "We're keeping them."

"I take orders from your father, not you," Theon bristled at Robb's command.

"It'll be a mercy to kill them," Hullen said.

"No!" Bran cried out, looking to Ned for support, but finds none.

"Better a quick death," Ned said. "They won't last without their mother."

"Lord Stark... there are five pups," Jeren counted. "Three male, two female. You have five trueborn children. Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House."

Everyone looks to the Stark banners, with their direwolf crest-of-arms. We see their opinions about the pups change, as they come to understand the import of this omen.

"Father, Jeren speaks wisely," Jon agreed. "Your children were meant to keep them."

"And you?" Ned asked.

"I am not a Stark," Jon said.

Ned weighs the situation for a moment and silence until he speaks. "You all need to feed them yourselves and them yourselves. They may die anyway, despite all you do."

"They won't," Robb promised. "We won't let them."

With the decision made, they start to remount their horses. As for Bran, he tugs gratefully on Jon's sleeve, who smiles at him, but beneath his smile, there is a trace of sadness. Just as Jon was about to climb onto his horse, he makes sudden stop when he hears a distant whimpering. Leaving his horse behind, he ranges into a snow drift and scans the ground until he finds the source. There was a sixth wolf pup. Unlike the others, this one had white fur and its eyes were red and open, and it is completely silent.

"What is it?" Robb asked, checking what his brother had found.

"An albino," Theon scoffs in laughter. "Its the runt of the litter. It'll die even faster than the others."

Jon ignores Theon as he continues to stare into the pup's eyes and the pup stares back.

"This one belongs to me," Jon murmured.


	3. Chapter 3 - King's Landing

The walled city of King's Landing, known in Westeros as the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, is packed with many civilians and guards. In the royal castle, the Red Keep, which is made out of red sandstone, perches on the cliffs above Blackwater Bay where guards had been busy patrolling every corner of castle. Several guards were also guarding the seven-towered Great Sept of Baelor, which rose on the south edge of the city. In between the sprawls of the city, several civilians were walking by the fetid slum called Flea Bottom. Inside the Red Keep, Lord Jon Arryn, who was cold and still, was lying on his deathbed where two silent sister, veiled adherents to the Faith of the Seven, fold his hands across his chest and close his eyelids.

Jon Arryn was born as the eldest son of Lord Jasper Arryn. He had a younger brother, Ronnel, and a sister, Alys, who married Ser Elys Waynwood. Jon was Keeper of the Gates of the Moon while Jasper lived, and after his father's death Jon named his brother Ronnel and later his cousin Denys to that position. Because of the Vale mountain clans, Jon always traveled in strength when crossing the Mountains of the Moon. Jon's first wife was Jeyne Royce. He had been betrothed to her from an early age and married her after his father's death. She died in childbed, their daughter stillborn. His second marriage was to Rowena Arryn, a cousin, who died of a winter chill during a childless marriage. Because he had no children, Jon's heir became his nephew, Elbert, the son of Ronnel.

Many years ago, Jon fought for King Jaehaerys II Targaryen in the War of the Ninepenny Kings. During the war, he made alliances with Lord Rickard Stark of Winterfell and Lord Steffon Baratheon of Storm's End, which resulted several years later in Jon taking their sons, Eddard Stark and Robert Baratheon, as his wards at the Eyrie. As they grew, the two boys became close companions and regarded the childless Jon as a second father. The only blade used by Robert was a hunting knife he received from Jon as a boy. He even declined Lord Walder Frey's offer in fostering his grandsons, for which he despised him and viewed Walder to be nothing but a greedy individual who has no care for others.

At some point in 278 AC, Jon received a raven from King's Landing, informing of the death of Elbert Arryn, who was murdered by King Aerys II Targaryen, who was recognized as the Mad King. In a state of shock and grief for the lost of his nephew that he loved and cared for, Jon was given an order by the Mad King to execute his wards, Eddard Stark and Robert Baratheon. Choosing to avenge his nephew, Jon refused and raised his banners in revolt, beginning what would become known as Robert's Rebellion. While Ned Stark returned to the north to call his banners, Jon and Robert led the taking of Gulltown, allowing Robert to return to the stormlands. He eventually confronted Ser Lyn Corbray of House Corbray, who had fought for House Targaryen with Lord Marq Grafton. After Grafton's death, Jon pardoned Ser Lyn Corbray and allowed him and the rest of his house to fight against the Mad King. When word that his cousin Ser Denys Arryn, who was the new heir of the Vale, was slain by Lord Jon Connington during the Battle of the Bells, Jon believed that his house would soon become extinct and that there would be nothing left. That was when he and Eddard Stark came up with an idea to gain the support of the houses in the Riverlands. In order to gain Lord Hoster Tully for the rebels, Jon and Eddard agreed to marry Hoster's daughters, Catelyn and Lysa. Because Lysa was proven fertile, Jon hoped to secure a new heir for the failing Arryn line, and so Jon and Eddard married the Tully sisters in a dual ceremony at the Riverrun.

A year later, Jon participated in the Battle of the Trident, during which Robert killed Aerys's son, Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. During the Sack of King's Landing, not only the Mad King but also Rhaegar's wife, Elia Martell, and children, Princess Rhaenys and Prince Aegon, were killed. Eddard was appalled by the brutality of the acts, but Robert's hatred for the Targaryens made him consider the murders necessary, creating a temporary rift between the two that even Lord Arryn was unable to breach. When Robert Baratheon ascended to the Iron Throne, he appointed Jon as his Hand. The first task Jon undertook was making peace with Dorne. The southern region was incensed by the deaths of Prince Lewyn and Princess Elia during the war, and Prince Oberyn Martell tried to raise the kingdom to support Viserys Targaryen, the surviving son of King Aerys II. The year after Robert I Baratheon took the throne, Jon returned the bones of Lewyn to Sunspear and brokered a peace with Doran Martell, the Prince of Dorne. However, Ser Gregor Clegane and Ser Amory Lorch, who had killed Elia and her children, went unpunished by Robert, creating a persistent bone of contention between the Iron Throne and Dorne.

To strengthen Robert's hold on the throne, Jon negotiated the king's marriage with Cersei Lannister and advised that he retain her brother, Ser Jaime, on the Kingsguard, thereby opposing Lord Eddard Stark, who proposed sending Jaime to the Wall for his killing of King Aerys. Robert also considered the assassinations of Viserys and Daenerys, believed to be the last two Targaryens and thus possible threats, but Jon dissuaded the king from the idea. Robert left Jon with much of the responsibility of running the Seven Kingdoms, but Jon could not stop Robert from spending huge amounts of coin on tournaments and excess, putting the realm in serious debt. While he was at court, Lord Nestor Royce ruled as High Steward of the Vale, and Jon appointed Janos Slynt as Commander of the City Watch after the death of Manly Stokeworth.

However, his marriage with Lysa was loveless, with Lysa finding her husband to be too old and hating his bad breath. After three girls and two boys miscarried, Lysa gave Jon a sickly son and heir, Robert Arryn. Jon was considered robust for his age, but he became ill the night after he borrowed Grand Maester Malleon's book, and quickly wasted away. Jon's maester, Colemon, tried treating an assumed stomach illness by purging the body. The moribund Jon kept mentioning the name Robert, and his final words to his wife Lysa Arryn and King Robert I Baratheon were "the seed is strong".

After his passing, Grand Maester Pycelle entered the room. Pycelle wore a heavy chain around his neck, each link forged with a different metal. Beside him is Queen Cersei Lannister of House Lannister.

Cersei Lannister was the firstborn child of and only daughter to Ser Tywin Lannister, heir to Casterly Rock, and his wife, Lady Joanna. Cersei was born shortly before her twin brother Jaime, who was holding her foot. During her early childhood, she and Jaime were inseparable. They looked so similar as children, up to the point that not even their father was able to keep them apart. Because of their similar looks, Cersei occasionally wore Jaime's clothes and took lessons from the master-at-arms in his stead, without anyone realizing. They played in the bowels of Casterly Rock, where the caged lions of Cersei's late grandfather, Tytos, were kept. Cersei and Jaime would dare each other to climb into the cage. Cersei once dared to go as far as touch one of the lions, until her brother pulled her away. Cersei and Jaime slept together in the same bed when they were very young, and experimented together in a sexual manner at a young age. During one of these encounters, they were caught by a servant who informed their mother. A guard was placed near Cersei's bedchamber, whilst Jaime's bedchamber was moved to the other side of the castle. The twins were told never to do anything like that ever again, as Joanna would otherwise be forced to tell their father.

Years later, Lord Tywin Lannister first informed Cersei of his wish to betroth her to the crown prince when she was no older than six or seven, though he told her never to speak of it until a betrothal was officially announced. Cersei drew a picture of her and Rhaegar on a dragon, once, though she claimed it depicted King Jaehaerys I Targaryen and his sister-wife, Alysanne, when Jaime discovered it. At the age of ten, Cersei became infatuated with Rhaegar after meeting him for the first time during the tournament in honor of Viserys's birth at Lannisport. Before the tourney began Cersei's aunt, Lady Genna, informed Cersei that her betrothal to Rhaegar would be announced during the final feast of the tourney. After being separated from Jaime following their mother's discovery of their sexual experimenting, Cersei had numerous bedmaids and companions, daughters of Tywin's bannermen and household knights who were of an age with her. While Cersei occasionally appreciated their company, she had not liked any of them, believing them weak and convinced they were trying to come between her and Jaime.

Following Genna's announcement that Cersei's betrothal to Rhaegar would soon be announced, Cersei brought Melara Hetherspoon and Jeyne Farman to a woods witch, Maggy the Frog. After Jeyne fled out of fear, Cersei inquired as to when she and Rhaegar would wed and how many children they would have. Maggy correctly predicted Cersei's marriage with the king and the amount of children both would have. She went on to prophesy that Cersei would outlive her children, who would die as kings and queens, and that after everything she had was taken away by a younger and more beautiful queen, the valonqar would come to end her life. Melara suggested that if they never spoke about it, the prophecies would not come true. However, Melara died shortly after their visit to Maggy, and it is implied that Cersei killed the girl to prevent her from speaking of the prophecies.

After the conclusion of Robert's Rebellion, a marriage was arranged between Cersei and the new king, Robert I Baratheon, in order to seal the new royal house's alliance with House Lannister. She and Jaime had sex the morning of her wedding. Nonetheless, Cersei was at first enthralled by the happy crowds at the royal wedding. However, her enthusiasm for the match ended when Robert called her "Lyanna" during their first night together. The marriage rapidly deteriorated, and Cersei resumed her incestuous relationship with Jaime. She bore him three children (Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen), all of whom she successfully passed off as Robert's trueborn heirs. Although the king was away during the births of his children, Jaime was present for at least Joffrey's birth, though Cersei refused to let her brother hold the child, fearing people might start to suspect his true parentage. On one occasion, early in her marriage, Cersei became pregnant by Robert. Unwilling to give birth to Robert's child, she sent Jaime out to find a woman to cleanse her. Having grown to resent Robert over the years, Cersei took further care to ensure he did not impregnate her.

"I gave him milk of the poppy at the end," Pycelle sighed. "To ease his path."

Cersei touches the old maester's arm in thanks, responding solemnly. "We are blessed to have a man of your wisdom caring for us."

The old Maester is not too old to appreciate a little flattery, or the touch of a beautiful woman.

"He was peaceful, in his final hours," Cersei said.

"Mostly he slept, my grace," Pycelle stated. "Though he had moments of clarity."

"Did he?" Cersei asked that. "What did he say, in these moments of clarity?"

"He asked to see the King, your grace," Pycelle answered when he made a slight cough.

"Robert will never forgive himself for not being here," Cersei sighed in disappointment. "These hunts of his last longer and longer."

"And he asked to see Lord Stark," Pycelle added that as well.

"Well its a shame that Lord Stark is a thousand leagues away," Cersei informed since the Seven Kingdoms were very big within the western continent. "That was all?"

"Yes… no," Pycelle paused and went on. "There was a phrase, one phrase he kept repeating. 'The seed is strong'."

Cersei focuses on the Maester and asks, "The seed is strong? What does that mean?"

"The dying mind is a demented mind," Pycelle shrugged. "For all the weight they're given, last words usually have as much significance as first words."

"Where is the Hand's wife?" Cersei asked.

"Lady Arryn left the moment he breathed his last," Pycelle informed.

Cersei was a bit concerned of this as she turns and heads for the door. That was when he made a sudden stop and says, "Send a raven to Casterly Rock. My father should know Jon Arryn is dead."

"At once, my grace," Pycelle complied to her command.

After Cersei exits the bedchamber, Pycelle watches the sisters perform their ritual ablutions, imagining, perhaps, the not-too-distant day when they will minister to his own corpse.

* * *

Up in the balcony, Cersei watches the beauty of the sea as someone approaches from behind to join her. The person was Jaime Lannister. He is the second child and first-born son of Lord Tywin Lannister of Casterly Rock and his wife, Lady Joanna, also of House Lannister, and even the twin brother of Queen Cersei Lannister. As young children, Jaime and his sister Cersei looked so much alike, that not even their father was able to tell them apart. Jaime grew into a tall, handsome man, with curled hair the color of beaten gold. He is muscular and extremely strong, musing that he could only think of a few men in the Seven Kingdoms stronger than him, and that his speed and skill can defeat them. As a Kingsguard knight, Jaime wears white armor and a white cloak. On occasion, he wears golden armor decorated with the Lannister lion, with gilded longsword and ornate lion's helmet. Jaime alternatively wears a crimson silk tunic embroidered with a golden lion, along with black boots and a black cloak. Jaime is a born warrior, with little interest in politics and court intrigue. He takes few things seriously. By his own admission, he only feels truly alive when fighting or making love.

Jaime was born shortly after his twin sister Cersei, while holding her foot. During the Targaryen Dynasty, King Aerys II Targaryen sent both Jaime and Cersei their weight in gold as a name day gift, and commanded Lord Tywin to bring the children to court when they were old enough to travel. Jaime and Cersei did visit King's Landing when their mother brought them from Casterly Rock for the Anniversary Tourney held to celebrate the tenth year of King Aerys's reign. Jaime and Cersei were inseparable in their early childhood, and as children, they played together in bowels of Casterly Rock, where the caged lions of his late grandfather, Tytos, were kept. Jaime and Cersei would dare each other to climb into the cage. Cersei and Jaime slept together in the same bed when they were very young, and even went as far as to experiment together in a sexual manner at a young age. During one of these encounters, they were caught by a servant who informed their mother. Jaime's bedchamber was immediately moved to the other side of the castle, whilst a guard was placed near Cersei's bedchamber. The twins were told never to do anything like that ever again, as Joanna would otherwise be forced to tell their father.

After Joanna died from childbirth when giving birth to Jaime's younger brother, Tyrion, Jaime developed an affection for his youngest sibling, and treated him with kindness and respect while both his father and sister openly despised the young Lannister, who was a malformed dwarf. Shortly after Joanna's death, the Princess of Dorne visited Casterly Rock with her two youngest children, Elia and Oberyn Martell. When she eventually proposed a betrothal between Elia and Jaime, she was refused. When Jaime was ten years old, Lord Tywin hosted a tourney to celebrate the birth of young Prince Viserys Targaryen. During this tourney, Tywin suggested to King Aerys that Jaime could squire for Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, but Aerys refused and named the sons of other lords to the position instead.

At the age of fifteen, Jaime participated in the campaign against the Kingswood Brotherhood, during which he saved Lord Sumner Crakehall from Big Belly Ben and crossed swords with the psychotic Smiling Knight. After the brotherhood had been defeated, Jaime was knighted for valor shown on the battlefield by Ser Arthur Dayne, a member of the Kingsguard of King Aerys II Targaryen. Now a knight, Jaime was to return to Casterly Rock. He decided to stop in King's Landing on route, to visit his sister, from whom he had been separated for years. There, Cersei informed him that their father, Lord Tywin Lannister, intended to betroth him to Lysa Tully, and had gone as far as inviting Lord Hoster to King's Landing, to discuss the dower. Cersei suggested that Jaime become a member of the Kingsguard instead, replacing the recently-deceased Ser Harlan Grandison. Though this would require Jaime to give up his claim to Casterly Rock and his position as Tywin's heir, it would allow him to be close to Cersei and free himself of the unwanted marriage to Lysa. After a night of passionate sex, he gave his consent to Cersei's plan. While the siblings expected Tywin to oppose it, Cersei claimed he could not openly object. She promised to do the rest, and a month later, Jaime received news at Casterly Rock that he had been chosen for the Kingsguard, and was to present himself to the king during the grand tourney at Harrenhal, where he would say his vows and don his cloak. Jaime's and Cersei's plan did not entirely work as expected. Their father, furious about the king's decision, pleaded illness and resigned his position as Hand of the King. He returned to Casterly Rock, taking Cersei with him, which separated the siblings once more.

Jaime was raised to the Kingsguard by its Lord Commander, Ser Gerold Hightower, in a ceremony at Harrenhal, making him the youngest knight ever to be raised to the order. That night, however, King Aerys soured the honor by sending him back to King's Landing to guard Queen Rhaella and Prince Viserys, depriving Jaime of the chance to participate in Lord Walter Whent's tourney. It was that moment during which Jaime realized that the king had only chosen him for the Kingsguard to slight Lord Tywin, of whom Aerys was insanely jealous, and to rob him of his heir. Jaime left for King's Landing at once. When a mystery knight appeared at the tourney, King Aerys became convinced that it was Jaime, who had defied his orders and secretly returned. By being raised to the Kingsguard, Jaime gave up his claim to Casterly Rock. Nonetheless, his father Tywin continued to regard him as his true heir, and was always angry to see Jaime dressed all in white, instead of the red and gold of House Lannister.

Jaime served in King Aerys II Targaryen's Kingsguard for two years, but when he witnessed his king growing aggressive and mad, he began to grow more and more disillusioned. As he continued to witness the Mad King's growing insanity and tendency for burning men alive, he would even witness the executions of Brandon and Lord Rickard Stark, standing at the foot of the Iron Throne as the two Starks were dying. Jaime coped by "going away inside", focusing on thoughts of Cersei instead of the events occurring in front of him. Afterwards, he was reminded by his Lord Commander, Ser Gerold Hightower, that he swore a vow to guard the king, not to judge him. Jaime would later advise others to "go away inside" as a way to deal with a harsh reality and making an appalling task tolerable. Following the deaths of Brandon and Rickard Stark, Lord Jon Arryn refused to obey Aerys II Targaryen's order to send the heads of Eddard Stark and Robert Baratheon, starting a war that would become known as Robert's Rebellion. When Prince Rhaegar Targaryen left the Red Keep to face the rebels on the Trident, Jaime begged Rhaegar to take him along, suggesting one of the other Kingsguard knights could remain at the king's side instead. Rhaegar refused the suggestion, admitting that King Aerys wanted to keep Jaime close as a hostage against his father, Lord Tywin. Rhaegar promised an angry and disappointed Jaime that changes would be made when he returned from the battlefield, and charged Jaime with keeping his wife, Elia Martell, and their children safe.

While a rebel army led by Lord Eddard Stark raced towards King's Landing after Rhaegar's death at the Trident, Jaime witnessed his father arriving with an army of 22,000 armed soldiers. His main concerns were that King Aerys II Targaryen would be capable of killing Jaime out of spite, as well as that Jaime himself could do something rash. Though Lord Varys, the master of whisperers, counseled Aerys against opening the gates, the king listened to Grand Maester Pycelle, who told him that his old Hand, Tywin, had come to his defense. As such, the city gates were opened to Tywin and his army, but once inside, Tywin betrayed Aerys and began the Sack of King's Landing. As the sole Kingsguard remaining in King's Landing, the defense of the Red Keep became Jaime's responsibility. Knowing that he did not stand a chance to defend the castle, he sent a messenger to the king, asking for leave to make terms with the attackers. The messenger came back with the Aerys's order that Jaime should bring him Lord Tywin's head, to prove that he was no traitor. The messenger also informed him that Rossart was with the king, leading Jaime to believe that Aerys was about to command the destruction of the city.

Jaime killed Rossart, who was dressed as a common soldier and hurrying to a postern gate. When the king in the throne room saw the blood on Jaime's sword, he demanded to know whether it was Tywin's, renewing his command that Jaime should bring him his father's head, otherwise Jaime would burn with all the other traitors. When Jaime answered that it was Rossart's blood, the frightened Aerys ran towards the Iron Throne. Jaime hauled him off the steps, and killed his king with a single slash across the throat, thereby preventing him from giving the command to burn the city to some other pyromancer just when Lord Tywin's men, led by Ser Elys Westerling and Lord Roland Crakehall, burst into the throne room in time to see that the former Kingsguard had killed the king, forestalling any chance for Jaime to steal away and let someone else claim responsibility. Jaime told them to advise all who were still fighting that the king was dead and to spare anyone who yielded. Lord Crakehall then asked whether a new king should be proclaimed as well, indicating that it could be Lord Tywin or Robert Baratheon or that even a new Targaryen king could be proclaimed. Jaime mused on the possibility of choosing Viserys or Rhaegar's son, Aegon, as the new king with Tywin as his Hand, but, realising that both boys shared the same blood as Aerys and thus the same propensity for madness, Jaime declared to Lord Crakehall that it was all the same to him. He then seated himself on the Iron Throne, waiting to see who would come to claim it. He was found sitting there with his golden sword across his legs when Lord Stark rode into the hall with his men to claim the throne for Robert. Jaime gave up the throne to Eddard, proclaiming it to be an uncomfortable seat.

In the following days, Jaime secretly hunted down and killed the two other pyromancers involved in Aerys's wildfire plot, Belis and Garigus. Although Eddard urged Robert to strip Jaime of the white cloak, arguing that he should at least be made to join the Night's Watch, Robert listened to Jon Arryn instead. Jaime was pardoned by King Robert I, together with Varys and Pycelle, and continued to serve in the Kingsguard along with Ser Barristan Selmy. Because of the death of King Aerys, Jaime earned such a bad reputation that everything he says is usually cast in the worst possible light.

"As your brother, I feel it's my duty to warn you," Jaime said. "You worry too much. It's starting to show."

"And you never worry about anything," Cersei smiled. "When we were seven, you jumped off the cliffs as Casterly Rock. One hundred foot drop into the water. And you were never afraid."

"There was nothing to be afraid of until you told father," Jaime whispered. "We're Lannisters. Lannisters don't act like fools."

"What if Jon Arryn told someone?" Cersei stated.

"But who would he tell?" Jaime asked.

"My husband," Cersei answered.

"If he told the king, both our heads would be skewered on the city gates by now," Jaime said. "Whatever Jon Arryn knew or didn't know, it died with him. And Robert will choose a new Hand of the king, someone to do his job while he's off hunting boars and whores like he always have done. Or is it the other way around? And life will go on."

"You should be the Hand of the king," Cersei suggested.

"That's an honor I can do without," Jaime rejected. "Their days are too long, their lives are too short."

* * *

In Flea Bottom, one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in King's Landing, many drunks spill out of doorways of taverns lit with oil lamps. Outside, the sounds of rough laughter and singing was heard all over inside a brothel. In one room filled with silks, damasks, and gilded ornaments, a beautiful red-haired woman named Ros bestows oral favors upon Tyrion Lannister.

Tyrion Lannister is a dwarf, with stubby legs, a jutting forehead, mismatched eyes of green and black, and pale blond hair. His unique stare has been said to make most people uncomfortable, which Tyrion tries to use to his advantage. Tyrion is intelligent, well educated, and a ferocious reader. He is sharp of wit and tongue. Even though he is no warrior, he has been trained at arms, and states to himself as to what he lacks is his size and strength he makes up for in mental acuity. Tyrion generally receives little respect and is often mocked. His deformity is the cause of many problems and persecution, although mitigated to some extent by his high social standing and his family's wealth and power. He craves for love and respect from his family, but does not have a good relationship with all his family members.

Born in 266 AC, Tyrion was the third-born child to Lord Tywin and Lady Joanna Lannister. After his mother died giving birth to him, Tyrion was accused by his father for her death. Tales about Tyrion were spread immediately after his birth; At Oldtown, it was said that Tyrion was a monster, with a tail, monstrous huge head, thick hair, a beard, an evil eye, lion's claws, with teeth so long he was not able to close his mouth, and both male and female genitals. It was said that Tyrion's birth was an omen to famine, plague and war, and the smallfolk named him "Lord Tywin's Doom" and "Lord Tywin's Bane". King Aerys II Targaryen stated that Tyrion was a punishment for Tywin's arrogance, and the same was said by begging brothers in Oldtown, stating that Tywin had made himself greater than the king. Shortly after his birth, the Princess of Dorne arrived with her consort and two younger children, Elia and Oberyn Martell. Tyrion was kept out of sight during the visit of the Martells, though he could sometimes be heard howling. Cersei and Jaime showed Tyrion to Elia and Oberyn the day before the Martells left, with Cersei claiming the infant would die soon. Lord Tywin, having refused to betroth Princess Elia to his heir Jaime, offered Tyrion as a betrothed to Elia instead, which the Martells took as an insult.

During most of Tyrion's childhood, his father Tywin served as Hand of the King to King Aerys II Targaryen in King's Landing, and as a consequence was absent from home for longer periods of time. As a child, Tyrion was lonely, but that was when his elder brother Jaime came to admire him. At one time, he used to dream of owning a dragon and once asked one of his uncles for a dragon as a name day present, whereupon he was informed that the last dragon had died a century before. He used to start fires in the bowels of Casterly Rock, and stared at them for hours, pretending they were dragonflame, while he himself was a lost Targaryen princeling, or a dragonlord from Valyria. As he grew older, Tyrion would seldom ever dream of dragons, though he would always remain fascinated by them. At the time when Cersei married King Robert I Baratheon, Tyrion came to King's Landing for the wedding, where he sought out the dragon skulls which had decorated the throne room during the Targaryen dynasty, but which had been taken down by Robert in the aftermath of the rebellion and the death of the Mad King.

Despite being very young at the time, his father offered Tyrion as a husband to Delena Florent of House Florent, who had been deflowered by King Robert I Baratheon. The two started to make out and slept with each other, even having sex at very young age. However, their relationship was cut off when her father suggested in having Delena marry Ser Hosman Norcross.

After turning thirteen, Tyrion fell in love, and that quickly replaced the thoughts of priesthood. He and his brother Jaime rescued a common girl, Tysha, from some bandits near Casterly Rock. While Jaime went after the bandits, Tyrion took care of Tysha. To his amazement Tysha liked him, and they eventually made love. Tyrion became so enamored by her, that he bribed a drunken septon and married her in secret. They lived in a little cottage by the sunset sea, and spent whole days in bed. They would kiss and make love, and Tysha would sing the Myrish song "The Seasons of My Love" for him. However, their marriage lasted only two weeks, until the septon sobered up and confessed to Lord Tywin. When Tyrion's father learned about the wedding, he commanded Jaime to say that Tysha was a prostitute whom Jaime had hired to take Tyrion's virginity. To drive the lesson home, Tywin forced his son to rape her, for whom Tysha was paid a gold coin, because Lannisters were worth more. Afterwards, Tywin had the marriage undone, and the septons said it was as if Tyrion and Tysha had never been wed.

While Tysha was kept watch and had been forced to work as a maiden in Casterly Rock, Tywin made sure to keep her separate from Tyrion. Despite the marriage being undone, Tyrion learned from his father that both Delena Florent and Tysha had been pregnant at the same time and had given birth. Delena gave birth to a daughter and Tysha gave birth to a son. Since Tywin knew that Tyrion slept with Delena before marrying Tysha, he came to the decision in naming his granddaughter Lysa, as well as giving her the Lannister surname, and lastly naming his grandson Jeren, but giving him the surname "Hill". Despite being to young to take care of his children, Tyrion became a loving father to his children and took care of them with the help of his brother Jaime. When he began to wonder what happened to Tysha, he was told by Jaime that their father had her banished. Feeling heartbroken, Tyrion disdained love and romance in favor of liaisons with prostitutes for money. However, he wouldn't ignore his love for the children he adored to much and would educate them.

Tyrion loved his children very much, for which his daughter Lysa loved him the most, but he would never forget his son Jeren, for whom he believed that he might have a bright future ahead. For years, he dreamed that one day he could travel the world with his children and see them himself. However in the year 289 AC, when his daughter turned ten and had suddenly died from a terrible illness, Tyrion mourned Lysa's lost, leaving his son Jeren as the only child to look after. Tyrion had hoped that his son will earn the Lannister surname one day, so that way no one would ever view him as a bastard. Two years later, Tyrion learned that his uncle Gerion was leaving on a journey for Valyria to recover the ancient Valyrian steel greatsword Brightroar, which had once belonged to House Lannister, but his father Lord Tywin forbade him to go on this journey as well.

As he shudders, Tyrion's hands grip her Ros' hair until they suddenly heard the sound of thousands of great pealing bells that were ringing outside across the city of King's Landing.

"Who they ringing the bells for?" Ros asked.

"The King's Hand died this morning," Tyrion said just as he grabs a goblet of wine from the bedside table. He swigs and passed it to Ros, who then raises it in toast.

"Here's to Jon Arryn," Ros praised, drinking deeply, sloshing the wine around her mouth. "He was the only one of you lot who cared about the smallfolk."

"I care about the small folk," Tyrion said.

"Only the ones with good tits," Ros giggled. "Who's Robert picking for a new Hand?"

"If he's smart, my father," Tyrion sighed.

"And if he's not smart?" Ros asked.

"If the King is not smart, then those are treasonous words," Tyrion clamped his palms on the back of her head and guides her back toward his crotch.

"No chance you're ready again," Ros laughed in disbelief.

Tyrion takes the goblet from her, downs the remainder, and tosses it across the room. Ros grins and pushes her hair away from her face as she dips down for further service. Just as Tyrion closes his eyes, the door swings open. It was Tyrion's older brother Jaime Lannister, who smiles as Ros covers her naed body with sheets.

"Don't get up," Jaime smiled.

"Forgive me, my lord," Ros apologized.

"Should I explain to you, dear brother, the meaning of a closed door in a whorehouse?" Tyrion demanded as to why his brother entered.

Jaime continues to favor Ros with his laxy grin, staring at her with his eyes as he speaks with his brother. "You have much to teach me, no doubt, but in this instance, perhaps you'll forgive the interruption. You told me once that wanted to see the North. I didn't want you to muss you chance."

"Who's going North?" Tyrion asked.

"The King, the Queen, me, and you, if you can find your pants," Jaime said. "The rest of the court might be frightened by the sight of your wet little dagger. Besides, you'll need your pants once we pick Jeren Hill from Winterfell."

"Oh Jeren, my dear beloved son of mine," Tyrion sighed. "Why, oh why, would I ever forget about him."

"Have you ever thought of your plan to legitimize him?" Jaime asked. "I mean, he deserves the Lannister name. Maybe one day, he will earn a place within the Kingsguard."

"I know he does," Tyrion sighed. "I know I don't want to go up there, but since the King is going to choose his new Hand, I don't think anyone is going to be happy about it."


	4. Chapter 4 - Ned and Catelyn

Winterfell, which had served as the stronghold and ancestral home of House Stark for many centuries, is described to be a massive, but ancient and austere castle. Many acres lie within its two concentric granite walls. Its keeps and towers stretch toward the gray skies of the North above. That was when a black raven was flying into view, in which was heading towards the stronghold with a small parchment scroll dangling from its leg. The Black Raven glides over the walls of Winterfell, banks over the main courtyard, and comes to rest on the windowsill of Maester Luwin's chamber.

Maester Luwin was described to be tireless with grey eyes and grey hair. He wears a robe of grey wool with voluminous sleeves. In the sleeves are sewn pockets, from which Luwin is always drawing things. His maester's collar is a simple choker, and he often tugs at the chain around his neck when he is uncomfortable. Presumably the replacement at Winterfell for Maester Walys, Luwin was the one responsible in delivering all the children to Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn Tully. Luwin educated the Stark children, as well as Eddard's bastard, Jon Snow, and Eddard's ward, Theon Greyjoy. For instance, he taught about maesters and stars to Jon, the history of the Night's Watch to Bran Stark and Robb's firstborn son Edward Stark, and the historical Kings of Winterfell to Theon.

Just as the raven jumps from its windowsill perch and lands onto the arm of Maeter Luwin, the Maester removes the scroll from the raven's leg and opens it. As he finished reading it, his face darkens. Feeding the raven, he then leaves his chambers and travels down to deliver the scroll to Catelyn. Catelyn was deeply shocked of when she read the scroll and then travels to a forest floor within Winterfell. Making her way among the dark tree trunks, with all its their twisted branches weaving a dense canopy over her head, Catelyn holds the small parchment from the above scene. She reaches a small grove at the center of the wood, where an ancient weir wood tree broods over a small, black pool.

Looking like no tree on Earth, the weir wood's bark is bone white, its leaves dark red. Long, long ago, a melancholy face was carved into its trunk. Its deep-cut eyes were red with dried sap. They seem to follow her as she rounds the tree. Seated on a moss-covered stone on the side of the tree, Ned Stark was resting his sword across his knees as he cleans it with a cloth dipped in the black waters at his feet.

"I knw I'd find you here," Catelyn responded.

Ned lifts his head to look at her. He sees her shivering and hand her his cloak, which she wraps around herself before sitting on the forest floor. He registers her somber face, and the scroll in her hand. Knowing something was up, he stops cleaning his sword.

"Tell me," Ned insisted.

"Forgive me, my lord... there was a raven from King's Landing," Catelyn began to explain. "Jon Arryn is dead."

Ned looks at the wet sword, lying flat across his lap, and asked. "How?"

"A fever took him," Catelyn answered. "He was healthy at the full moon and gone by the half."

"Your sister, the boy...?" Ned asked that as well.

"The letter said they're well," Catelyn informed.

Ned looks more angry than grief-stricken as he dries his sword with a swatch of oiled leather.

"I know he loved you very much," Catelyn said.

"I haven't seen him in how long, nine years?" Ned sighed in a bit of despair.

"You couldn't have known," Catelyn said, giving him some comfort toher husband.

"Of course I could have known," Ned sniffed through the air, sheathing the blade when his wife reaches for his hand. "He was an old man and a very good friend to our families. The girls won't remember him. Bran never met him."

"You'll tell them the stories," Catelyn suggested.

"He would have been proud of Bran," Ned added in thought. "The boy was brave, but he never see the execution happen."

"What happened?" Catelyn asked, feeling a sign of trouble by the thought.

"Seems that someone from the outside reported to the Cerwyns and Lord Medger Cerwyn rode just in time to prevent his nephew's execution for desertion," Ned explained what had happened early today. "Not every lord in the Seven Kingdoms is bound to follow these laws. If I executed the young man, then House Cerwyn would not forgive us."

"Medger is a good man, but the one thing he doesn't like to see or hear about, that no member of his family should ever die," Catelyn said.

"And what I did today was treason, I broke another law, this time letting a deserter go," Ned sighed and explained his story. "The last time I committed treason years ago... was a rebellion. I couldn't live my life in the sake of someone committing such madness, but Robert knew it from the start, so I had to go along with it to avenge my father and brother. What will my children think of me now? What will the rest of the Northern Lords say about it?"

"This was not your fault," Catelyn said. "Many Northerners saw you as a war hero for saving the lives of those who would perish if the Mad King had succeeded. I remember the story of how one of his kingsguard betrayed and assassinsted him in order to prevent wildfire from spreading across the city. Lives would've been lost. Your life would've been lost. And now today, you were stuck between two choices: fulfill the law or there would be war. You didn't want lives to be taken away. I know in your heart that you are a good man and that you would never want a war to happen again."

"House Cerwyn could never go to war against us, but Lord Medger was making a demand," Ned told her what he remembered early today. "No northern lord would make such a demand for the sake of a deserter, even their own children. I would never let a deserter escape justice like that."

"But you let him go," Catelyn said.

"And that I did," Ned sighed. But if I did kill him, then the Cerwyns would never forgive and they would rise up against me. I've seen war, Catelyn. Up close. Many Northerners died during the rebellion to overthrow the Mad King from power. Rebellion is a serious crime and an act of treason and oathbreaking. Our job was to enter the throne room and arrest the king for committing treason against the Seven Kingdoms. He would've been sent to Castle Black where his crimes could be forgiven."

"Then tell me, what will you do?" Catelyn asked. "I know deep down you'll be forgiven once you make up for you previous mistake."

"Have Maester Luwin send a raven to Castle Cerwyn," Ned planned. "Lord Medger is to send his nephew to join my banner. He is to serve at my will and will not be allowed to abandon his post or anything. As long as he keeps his oath, he will be forgiven, but should he break his new oath, then he will be sentenced to death."

"Our Lords will forgive," Catelyn said and changes the subject. "The raven brought more news. The king rides for Winterfell along with the queen and her brothers."

Upon hearing that, Ned considered this prospect for a moment. Clearly his wife already has. They both know what it means.

"He hates the cold," Ned recalled of Robert's attitude towards the temperature. "Always has. If he this far north, it's one thing he's after."

"You can always say no," Catelyn insisted.

Ned allows a grim smile, taking his wife's hand and helping her to her feet. "You don't know the king very well."


	5. Chapter 5 - The King's Arrival

Word in the North was spreading all over now. Many of the Northerner civilians started to gather inside Winterfell to await the arrival of King Robert I Baratheon of House Baratheon, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. Inside a chamber, Jeren Hill, Domeric Snow, Jon Snow, Robb Stark, and Theon Greyjoy were all getting dressed and ready to the king's arrival.

"So what year were you born?" Theon asked Jeren.

"I was born the same year as Robb Stark and Jon Snow," Jeren answered his question. "Although, I look a little younger and you lot look a little older than me."

"Good one," Jon remarked with a bit of laughter.

"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make a joke out of that," Jeren apologized. "So please forgive me."

"None taken, Jeren," Robb said.

"So where's your son now, Robb?" Jeren asked.

"Getting ready upstairs," Robb answered. "His mother Jeyne will come by in a few days to take him on a trip to the Riverlands."

"What happened between you and your wife?" Domeric asked.

"Domeric!" Jeren raised his voice a bit, not pleased by that question.

"Its alright Jeren, he deserves to know," Robb said. "Jeyne and I married without my father and Lord Gawen's consent. Our marriage only lasted for almost a year when Lord Gawen learned of this and was furious. Before we were separated, she was pregnant and gave birth to a son. At my father's command, I had to send her back, but we kept the child. When she returned, she was punished, but her father would grant permission that she would only visit Edward and take him on adventures only. We were warned that she and I would never see each other. If she stayed here for too long, then the Westerlings would marshall an army and a war would erupt."

"And that's why he named his son Edward, closely resembling his grandfather's name," Jeren added and gave Robb a nod. "He will be the next ruling heir of Winterfell and Warden of the North."

"Aye, he will be," Jon chuckled.

"You should be proud of your nephew Jon," Jeren smiled.

"Don't say that he's my nephew Jeren cause I'm not a Stark," Jon corrected.

"But your father is Ned Stark and that really does make you an uncle," Jeren corrected. "C'mon Jon, get your head together and think of yourself as a member of the family. You may be a natural son and one day, I would like to see you with the Stark name. You should earn it, my friend."

"Has your father ever had you legitimized?" Theon teased. "Why are you still a Hill then?"

"It takes time, Theon, so I would suggest you watch it," Jeren warned him with a glare. "Besides how would it feel if you were born as a natural son and how others would treat ya?"

"Jeren's right, you shouldn't be teasing someone who is baseborn," Jon agreed. "Espically Domeric, here."

"Aye," Domeric nodded.

"Domeric's a good lad, its why I'm teaching him," Jeren smiled as he puts his shirt on. "Like I said seconds ago, it takes time for an illegitimate child to be legitimized by either their mothers or fathers."

"You so eager to earn the Lannister surname?" Robb asked.

"I'm patient Robb, and I can wait even longer," Jeren answered with a chuckle.

"Your a good lad, Jeren," Robb admired him. "Gonna miss you."

"Aye, I will," Jeren sighed. "But my father is coming, so I should give him a good greeting before I go home."

"I hear that your father is quite short as a child," Theon joked.

"Theon, that is twice that I'm warning you!" Jeren exclaimed. "If you continue to make fun of my father..."

"Enough!" Robb raised his voice, trying to stop a fight between them. "Both of you!"

"Jeren, can I ask you something?" Domeric asked.

"Say it if its not an insult or a compliment," Jeren insisted.

"Is it true that Prince Joffrey is trouble?" Domeric asked him that.

"He's a savage little fella," Jeren described him and deeply sighed. "And its not someone I prefer to see as a king."

* * *

From the stronghold's gates, the King's Road wends its way to the horizon - where tiny specks of red and gold appear, barely visible. Very slowly, they grow larger. The king's party was approaching.

Brandon Stark sees them from his perch high atop a castle wall and clambers nimbly down to tell everyone. Bran climbs down the side of the tower, his hands and feet finding purchase on its jutting stones with a monkey's unthinking agility. Climbing is as natural to him as studying is onerous. He smiles as he makes his way toward the ground in record time, very pleased with himself. That was when his mother yanks him off the stones, lowers him to the ground, and sternly waits for an explanation.

"Mother, I was," Bran tried to explain.

"You were bored with your lesson so you decided to climb the castle walls, even though I've forbidden it two hundred times," Catelyn reminded him.

"I saw the king," Bran reported. "He's got hundreds of people!"

"Brandon, I want you to promise me: No more climbing... promise," Catelyn said.

Bran looks at his feet before gazing up at her solemnly. "I promise."

Catelyn leans over to look her son dead in the eye. "You know what?"

"What?" Bran gulped.

"You always look at your feet before you lie," Catelyn grinned.

Despite Bran's best efforts, his mouth stretches into a smile, and a chuffing laugh escapes from behind it. Catelyn smiles, unable to help herself. She sees that his hands, clothes and bare feet are filthy from the climb down.

"Go on, clean yourself up," Catelyn ordered. "The king will be here soon." Then she turns to Rickon. "Rickon, run and find your father. Tell him the king is close."

* * *

The king's party pours through the gates of Winterfell in a river of gold, silver and steel, one hundred strong. Over their heads, a dozen golden banners whip in the wind, emblazoned with the crowned stag of House Baratheon.

At the far end of the yard, Ned's face betrays nothing as he watches the King's party approach with his family beside him. As he waited, he was joined by his wife Catelyn Tully, including their trueborn children Robb, Sansa, Bran, Arya, and Rickon Stark. Jon Snow, Domeric Snow, Jeren Hill, all three who were baseborn children, stood closely together near the Starks. As they wait silently for the king to arrive, Jaime Lannister rides through the gate and into the courtyard.

"Is that the king?" Domeric whispered to Jeren.

"No, that's my uncle, Jaime Lannister," Jeren quietly answered.

"You mean the Kingslayer?" Domeric gasped in surprise.

"Yep, the one who assassinated the Mad King," Jeren nodded.

Domeric couldn't take his eyes off the man, for he heard a lot of stories about the Mad King and how Robert I Baratheon forged that rebellion to remove him out of power. As for Arya Stark, she had just stolen a helm and cloak that belonged to a guard and had been pushing her way into a tall wagon to get a better look of the scene. That was when her eyes settle on Prince Joffrey Baratheon and his honorable bodyguard Sandor Clegane of House Clegane. Unlike his father Robert, Joffrey had the Lannister look and was quite tall for a young boy his age, with blond curly hair. Known to be handsome, he has deep green eyes and pouty lips.

As for Sandor, he was a huge and heavily-muscled man. He has grey eyes, his nose is large and hooked, and his long hair is dark and thin. ne side of Sandor's face is gaunt, with sharp cheekbones and a heavy brow, while the other side is a burned ruin of scars. Slick black flesh is pocked with craters and deep cracks that ooze red and wet, his ear is only a hole with a stump, and a hint of bone shows on his jaw. The scars extend down to his throat, in which there were twisted mass of scars around his eye, which is still good, not harmed by the fire, but he has no lips on that side. Sandor brushes his hair so that it covers his burned side, since no hair grows there.

"Where's Arya?" Catelyn asked, looking around and turns to his daughter Sansa. Sansa, where's your sister?"

As more riders with banners enter the courtyard, Arya scoots past her parents to get in the receiving line, much to Ned and Catelyn's relief.

"What are you doing with that on?" Ned asked as he removes the helm off Arya.

As Joffrey rides up and turns to notice Sansa smiling at him, Jeren, who was his cousin, gave him a very dirty glare. However, Jeren wasn't the only one who glared at the prince, Robb Stark himself did the same thing. That was when Jeren noticed his father, who was riding behind Jaime, studying the castle and its occupants, missing nothing. Lastly, a large coach, which was carrying Queen Cersei Lannister, lumbers in, followed by a huge man approaches, flanked by knights in snow-white cloaks. A dark-brown beard covers his double chin, but nothing can hide the belly that threatens to burst his doublet's buttons. This was King Robert I Baratheon.

Upon seeing the king, everyone began to bend their knees as a show of great respect for their visitor. Robert quickly heaves himself off his horse. Ned looks a bit shocked at the sight of his old friend, now fat and red-faced. ROBERT signals for all to rise and gives Ned an imperious once-over.

"Your grace," Ned responded in respect.

"You've gotten fat," Robert responded.

Ned tries to maintain his stony decorum, but it's hopeless. For the first time, we see him laugh - and it becomes clear that Ned and the King were actually old friends. Robert joins in, engulfing him in a bone-crunching hug. He finally releases Ned, who takes a moment to catch his breath.

"Nine years!" Robert laughed. "Why haven't I seen you? Where the hell have you been?"

"Guarding the north for you, your grace," Ned told him of his actual job as Warden of the North. "Winterfell is yours."

As the king's party dismounts, an ornate wheelhouse pulls into their midst. Queen Cersei Lannister emerges with her younger children Tommen and Myrcella. Ned kneels to kiss Cersei's ring in respect and looks to see how her smile is pure formality. Robert, on the other hand, embraces Catelyn like a long lost sister. As the children on both sides are brought forward and introduced, Robert steps back to Ned.

"Take me down to your crypt," Robert insisted. "I want to pay my respects."

"We've been riding since dawn, my love," Cersei said. "Surely, the dead will wait."

Robert gives her a hard look. Cersei stares back at him, uncowed. Finally Robert turns and walks away. After an awkward glance at the Queen, Ned leads Robert toward one of Winterfell's old towers.

* * *

Ned Stark holds a lantern as he leads King Robert I Baratheon down the narrow, winding stone steps of the family crypts underneath the keep.

"I thought we'd never get here," Robert said in disbelief. "All the talk about my Seven Kingdoms... a man forgets your part is as big as the other six combined."

As they descend, their breath becomes more and more visible from the cold, and Robert's becomes more and more labored.

"How will you stand it, man, when winter finally comes?" Robert asked. "Your balls frozen right up into your guts for the next twenty, thirty years?"

"The Starks will endure," Ned said. "We always have."

"You need to come south, get a real taste of summer before it's gone," Robert suggested. "Everyone is fat, drunk and rich. And the girls, Ned! Women lose all modesty in the heat. They swim naked in the river, right beneath the castle."

The king laughs happily, but his laughter trails off as the staircase ends. Ned sweeps the lantern in a semicircle; shadows lurch along a procession of granite pillars that recede into the dark.

"She's down at the end, your Grace," Ned pointed directly at the direction.

Side by side they proceed, their footsteps ringing off the stones as they walk among the dead of House Stark. Between the pillars on either side: granite sculptures of the deceased sitting on thrones, their backs against their own sepulchres. Great stone direwolves curl around their feet. Ned stops at the last tomb and lifts the lantern. The crypt continues on into the darkness ahead of them, but beyond this point the tombs are empty, waiting for him and his children. In front of him, illuminated by the lantern, a beautiful young woman stares out at them with blind, granite eyes: Lyanna Stark, Ned's sister.

"She was more beautiful than that," Robert replied in remark as he silently kneels and bows his head. Ned joins him. Robert's voice is hoarse with remembered grief. "Did you have to bury her in a place like this? She should be on a hill somewhere, with the sun and the clouds above her."

"She was a Stark," Ned softly answered. "This is her place."

The king rises to touch her cheek, his fingers brushing the rough stone as gently as if it were living flesh. "In my dreams, I kill him every night."

"It's done," Ned said. "The Targaryens are gone."

The warrior Robert used to be surfaces in his face, pitiless. "Not all of them."

"We should return, your Grace," Ned suggested. "Your wife will be waiting."

"To hell with my wife," Robert spat as he starts back the way they came with his friend followhing him. "And if I hear "your Grace" one more time, I'll have your head placed on a spike. We're more to each other than that."

"I haven't forgotten," Ned sighed. "Tell me about old Jon."

"One moment he was fine, and... it burned right through him, whatever it was," Robert described of what happened to Jon Arryn. "I loved that man."

"We both did," Ned added.

"He never had to teach you much," Robert said. "But me? You remember me at sixteen? All I wanted to do was crack skulls and dance with girls. Old Jon showed me what was what."

Ned gives the king a sidelong, skeptical look, barely suppressing a smile.

"Don't look at me like that," Robert smiled. "It's not his fault I didn't listen." He puts a massive arm around Ned's shoulder and walks on. "You must wonder why I've finally come north, after all these years."

"Your inspection of the Wall is long overdue," Ned reminded him.

"The Wall's stood for eight thousand years," Robert reminded him "It can keep a while longer." He then stops walking and turns to face Ned. "These are dangerous times. I need good men around me, men like Jon Arryn. Men like you. I want you down in King's Landing, not up here where you're no damn use to anybody. Lord Eddard Stark, I would name you Hand of the King."

Ned drops to one knee, not at all surprised. "I'm not worthy of the honor."

"I'm not trying to honor you," Robert said. "I'm trying to get you to run my kingdom while I eat, drink and whore my way to an early grave. You know the saying."

"That I do, my old friend," Ned smiled.

"C'mon Ned, stand up," Robert ordered his friend to be on his full height. "You helped me win the Iron Throne and this is your reward now. We were meant to rule together. If your sister had lived, we'd have been bound by blood. Well, it's not too late. I have a son, you have a daughter... my Joff and your Sansa will join our houses."

This does surprise Ned. After a moment he shakes his head and smiles. "How long have you been planning this?"

"How old is your daughter?" Robert asked.

Before Ned could answer his question, both men started to laugh happily like they've always done before in the past since the rebellion.

Robert's face grows serious. "I never loved my brothers. A sad thing for a man to admit, but it's true. You were the brother I chose. We were meant to be family."

"I don't know what to say," Ned said since he was moved by his words.

"Then say 'yes'," Robert said.

"If I could have some time to consider these honors," Ned said.

"Yes, of course, talk it over with Catelyn, sleep on it if you must," Robert truly insisted for his friend to take some time to think of the offer, and then he claps his hands roughly on Ned's shoulders. "Just don't keep me waiting too long. I'm not the most patient man."

Ned smiles, but his glance drifts over Robert's shoulder to the dead of Winterfell, who watch with disapproving eyes.

* * *

Elsewhere, on top of the eastern side of the wall within Winterfell, Tyrion had been staring at the view of the lands below. That was when his natural son Jeren Hill came over to join him.

"I thought you've forgotten me," Jeren smiled.

"I was this close, but I know you are a young lad always destined for adventures," Tyrion widely smiled at his son. "You're just like your sister. She said the same things just before a sickness took her away from us."

"She was a kind one, always had my back," Jeren sighed with his eyes closed briefly. "She was a Lannister, and I'm a Hill."

"I don't believe you'll remain a Hill for long," Tyrion said. "Once you prove worthy to our family, and the King and Queen, you will be recognized as a Lannister, not a Hill. You are a natural son to me."

"I'm pleased to hear that a lot of you refer us as 'natural children'," Jeren smiled until it dropped. "Though there are some who call us bastards instead of 'baseborn'."

"Oh no, I would never say that to my own son," Tyrion said. "But if someone would be a fool to call you a 'bastard', give them a demonstration of your water dance and maybe they'll their lesson. Although, I prefer an educational lesson."

"Is that something your advising, father?" Jeren asked with a smile. "Cause I like it, but I disregard it?"

"Suit yourself," Tyrion chuckled. "Don't say I offered it, but its for the best. Speaking of which, have you ever stuck your eyes on someone who attracts you. A woman who draws her beauty to you."

"There is," Jeren answered.

"Oh, and who would that be?" Tyrion asked, intrigued.

"Sansa Stark," Jeren answered the two words which surprised.

"Its a pity that Sansa is a trueborn," Tyrion deeply sighed. "Although, I've learned from one the books that if a natural son and daughter from two different regions marry, they will most likely take their father's surname as a reward."

"It'll prove to be difficult, father," Jeren said.

"Yes, yes, it will be, but I should advise you to be patient," Tyrion suggested.

"Oh I'm patient," Jeren told him that before.

"Jeren, perhaps one day when we return to King's Landing, I promise I will tell you about your mother," Tyrion said. "You have my word."

"Take as much time to think of when to say it when we're home," Jeren sighed, still hoping to get a specific answer about his mother whom he never met before since he was born.


	6. Chapter 6 - Celebration

The feast for the king is in its fourth hour. A singer plays the harp at one end of the hall but no one can hear him above the roar of the fire, the clangor of pewter plates and cups, and the din of a hundred conversations. The long wooden tables are covered with steaming platters of roasted meats and baked breads. Banners hang from the stone walls: the dire wolf of Stark, Baratheon's crowned stag, and the lion of Lannister.

Ned and Catelyn host King Robert, who was already drunk at the time before the celebration began, but kept his moods up and started to order the musicians to continue on with the music. Queen Cersei, Ser Jaime Lannister, and Tyrion Lannister, and a few other luminaries at a table on a raised platform. The Stark and Baratheon trueborn children sit at a table directly below the guests of honor. On the main floor, so many soldiers, squires, and other commoners had been sitting on backless benches.

Jeren has been sitting with Theon Greyjoy, who was kissing Bessa, a fellow tavern wench who worked at the Smoking Log in the winter town outside of Winterfell. Jeren was a bit annoyed, but didn't say a word. Instead, he stands up and joins with Jon Snow, who was sitting alone in a table.

"You don't seem to happy," Jon said.

"I'm not use to these kind of celebrations," Jeren sighed, shaking his head.

"I can tell," Jon nodded, understanding how he feels.

"Father always loves to drink and laugh during celebrations," Jeren smiled a bit. "But, he raised me right. I respect it."

"Both our fathers share a great sense of honor and compassion, just like us," Jon smiled.

"So, have you changed your mind?" Jeren asked.

"About what?" Jon asked.

"Joining the Night's Watch," Jeren answered.

"I still need time to think this over with my uncle," Jon said.

"Well, take your time," Jeren insisted with a smile. "You carry patience just like your family."

The young men sitting around Jeren and Jon are telling the usual stories about fighting, singing, and sleeping. Jeren didn't admire all this, but it seems that Jon felt a sign of being comfortable in their midst. However, it turns out that Jon wasn't even paying attention to them. Jeren could tell that he's stealing a glance at his half siblings, at their table of honor. Jon downs his wine, and signals a serving boy for a refill, and watches his father and the King and the high table. Robert and Ned toast with tankards full of ale. Ned takes a healthy drink while Robert drinks the whole tankard.

A few seats down, Catelyn notices Queen Cersei staring at her drunk husband with plain disgust. A good hostess, Catelyn tries to distract Cersei.

"Your children are quite beautiful, my Queen," Catelyn remarked on Cersei's children. "They have the gift of the Lannister eyes."

Cersei, a little startled to be addressed, stares at Catelyn with her vaguely reptilian green eyes. "I heard a rumor we might share a grandchild someday."

"I heard the same rumor," Catelyn smiled, pleased by this."Of course, these decisions ultimately fall to our husbands," Cersei said. "As all important decisions must."

She glances past Catelyn to Robert, as he gnaws on a rib and leers at the buxum serving girl refilling his tankard. Only her eyes reveal her anger, and they only do so briefly. Jaime, sitting on the other side of Cersei, leans forward, his forearms on the table, flashing his white teeth at Catelyn. Many women have waited their whole lives for that smile, but it only serves to make her nervous.

"You'd enjoy the capital, my lady?" Jaime asked. "The north must be hard for someone who wasn't born here."

"I'm sure it seems very grim, after King's Landing," Catelyn smiled. "I remember how scared I was when Ned brought me up here the first time."

"You were only a girl," Cersei said. "I'm sure you were scared of many things."

But harsh as it is, I've come to love it," Catelyn added. "The north gets in your blood."

Cersei seems skeptical, looking around the rough-hewn Great Hall, which would fit in the kitchen of her own palace.

"Your daughter will take to the city," Cersei grinned. "Such a beauty can't stay hidden up here forever. It's time we introduce her to the court."

"Mm... of course, I have two daughters," Catelyn nodded.

If Cersei knew this at one point, she had forgotten. She sees Catelyn's distressed look and follows her gaze to the children's table, where Sansa looks as radiant as ever, chatting with young Princess Myrcella. Arya, on the other hand, has already ruined her evening dress. She uses her spoon as a catapult to fling a wad of pigeon pie at Bran, across the table. It hits him square in the forehead.

"The girl has talent," Jaime remarked.

Catelyn, embarrassed, begins to stand so she can take matters in hand, but Ned, passing behind her, grips her shoulders, leans down and kisses the side of her neck.

"I'll take care of it," Ned said, deciding to handle the matter himself.

Cersei smiles at Catelyn. To her credit, she has an excellent fake smile. The two women resume their conversation. As Ned passes behind Jaime's seat, Jaime pushes his chair back, momentarily blocking Ned's path. Jaime stands.

"Excuse my clumsiness," Jaime smiles down at Ned.

Jaime is taller and broader in the shoulders. They are considered two of the greatest warriors in the Seven Kingdoms, and there can be little doubt that right now each man wonders who would win a fight.

"Not a trait most people associate with you," Ned said. "Your pardon-

Immediately, Ned moves to step around Jaime, but Jaime puts his hand on Ned's shoulder.

"I hear we might be neighbors soon," Jaime stated. "I hope it's true.

Ned would rather talk to any living man than this. "Yes, the King has honored me with his offer.

Again Lord Ned tries to pass, but Jaime continues to sidestep him once more.

"The King has promised a tournament to celebrate your new title... if you accept," Jaime smiled, but his actions seem to be shy. "It would be good to have you on the field. The competition has become a bit stale.

"I don't fight in tournaments," Ned expressed his disregard over one of those special events.

"No? Getting a little old for it?" Jaime asked.

Ned is tired of trying to get around Jaime. He stands very close to the younger man and looks him dead in the eye. "I don't fight in tournaments because if I ever have to fight a man for real, I don't want him to know what I can do."

The comment pleases Jaime immensely, judging from his smile.

"Well said, well said!" Jaime smiled even more. "I do hope you take the King's offer. Though of course, we all know the court hasn't been kind to Stark men.

Ned stiffens at the comment. Nobody wears swords at the banquet but his hand reflexively grips for the absent hilt.

"Your father and brother," Jaime began of a tale he remembered years ago. "Yes, I was a witness to that... tragedy."

"I know you were," Ned nodded.

"I suppose it's some consolation that justice finally came to their killer," Jaime added. "No need to thank me- oh, I'm sorry, you never did."

Ned wasn't really pleased of this action Jaime committed when he killed the Mad King. "Was it justice you were thinking of when you shoved your sword in the Mad King's back?"

"It was his kidneys I was thinking of," Jaime continued to recall more. "His liver and spleen. Was that terrible of me? After all the suffering the man caused?"

Ned has had enough. He pushes past Jaime. This time the Kingslayer lets him go, but not before one final remark. For an instant Jaime's air of perpetual amusement evaporates.

"The worst king in a thousand years... and people treat me like some back-alley cutthroat," Jaime spat.

Ned had already left, heading down the raised platform, leaving Jaime to be standing alone. The only one at the banquet table who has overheard the Jaime and Ned's conversation was Tyrion, who grins at his brother and raises his tankard in toast.

"If it came down to it, big brother, I'd bet on you, but I wouldn't bet much," Tyrion cleared his throat just as he downs his tankard of ale with a single, heroic gulp and wipes the foam from his mouth, pleased with himself. A second later it hits him: he's one tankard over the line.

Tyrion stands and staggers away from the royal table without a goodbye. Jaime retakes his seat beside his sister, who watches Tyrion stumble down the steps to the main floor.

CERSEI  
"He is a vile little beast," Cersei responded in a sign of hate.

"He plays the hand he was dealt," Jaime remarked, just as his gaze floats over Cersei's shoulder, to Robert. "As do we all."

Tyrion lurches past Ned on the main floor, nearly bumping into him. Ned extends a hand to steady the little man but Tyrion brushes past him, not wanting any help, heading for the exit.

Ned turns for a second, from where Jeren Hill and Jon Snow were sitting. It seems Ned is staring right at Jon. Jon smiles at his father, eager for acknowledgement. A wink would suffice, but Ned wasn't looking at him at all. His eyes are on the table of trueborn children that lies between Jon and Ned. Ned heads over to break up the foodfight between Arya and Bran. Jeren knew that Ned always cared about Jon so much and dreamed of a day that Jon would eventually earn the Stark name in the future. He decides to rise from the table and go outside for some peace and quiet.

Slightly bitter, more than slightly drunk, Jon takes a large hunk of honeyed chicken from his trencher and chucks it under the table to his dire wolf puppy, Ghost. The way Ghost devours it in seconds is cute - until we remember the size of his mother. One of the boys at the table is filling wine cups from a flagon. Jon nods for another cup and gulps from it while watching his pup lick the chicken bones clean.

"You never stop eating, do you?" Jon grinned at his direwolf pup.

"Is this one of the direwolves I've heard so much about?" A man's voice asked from behind him.

Jon looks up happily as his uncle Benjen Stark, who ruffles his hair. Benjen is sharp-featured and gaunt, but there's always a hint of laughter in his eyes. He wears the black garb of a sworn brother of the Night's Watch.

JON  
"His name is Ghost," Jon smiled.

One of the squires at the table makes room. Benjen straddles the bench, takes the cup from Jon's hand and sips.

"How many cups have you had?" Benjen asked, wanting to get an answer from his nephew, but he could tell how Jon responded with a guilty smile. "As I feared. Well, I believe I was younger than you the first time I got truly and sincerely drunk." He grabs a roasted onion from a nearby trencher and bites into it. He watches Ghost as he chews. "Don't you usually eat with your brothers and sisters?"

"Most times, but Lady Stark thought it might insult the royal family to seat a baseborn among them," Jon said, sardonically.

BENJEN

"I see," Benjen nodded and glances over his shoulder at the elevated table, where Ned returns to sit with Catelyn. "My brother doesn't seem so festive tonight."

"He's sad about Jon Arryn," Jon said as his eyes go to the queen. "The queen is angry. Father took the king down to the crypts this afternoon. She didn't want him to go.

Benjen gives Jon a careful, measuring look. "You don't miss much, do you? We could use a man like you on the Wall, someday."

"Take me with you when you go back," Jon insisted in a sudden rush. "Father will let me go if you ask him. I know he will.

"The Wall is a hard place for a boy," Benjen began to describe about the Wall.

"I turned nineteen today," Jon told him. "I want to serve in the Night's Watch. I'm ready to swear your oath."

"You don't understand what you'd be giving up," Benjen explained about the Night's Watch. "Not many brothers are lucky. Some can be pardoned by their fellow lords or kings to change their oaths and do different tasks to please them, but those who remain in the Night's Watch, as of I, we have no families. None of us will ever father children. Its not easy for a brother of the Night's Watch to keep his oath. Those who desert the Night's Watch are not lucky to escape. For thousands of years, many brothers deserted the Night's Watch and used their skills to disappear, change their names, get married, start new lives, or even swear new oaths. The unlucky ones Very would be caught and executed. This is a warning, Jon. I would insist you remain here if any harm comes to our family."

"I don't care about that," Jon rejected his uncle's warning about joining the Night's Watch.

"You might, if you knew what it meant," Benjen stated if it was possible. "Come talk to me after you've dipped your wick a few times." He stands, grips his nephew's shoulder, and takes his leave.

Frustrated, Jon drains his cup, slams it on the table and rises from the bench. Too late he realizes how drunk he really is- he lurches into a SERVING GIRL, sending a flagon of wine crashing to the floor. Laughter booms all around. Jon flushes and runs for the door. Ghost follows at his heels.

* * *

The yard is quiet and empty. High on the battlements of the inner wall, a lone sentry takes brief notice of Jon as he storms from the banquet hall with Ghost close behind. The music and song spilling through the hall's open windows seem to taunt Jon as he walks away from the feast. He was unaware that Tyrion Lannister was sitting like a gargoyle on the ledge above the door to the great hall.

"Is that animal a wolf?" Tyrion asked in a drunken tone.

Jon turns around to address him. "A direwolf. His name is Ghost. What are you doing up there? Why aren't you at the feast?"

"I learned long ago that it's considered rude to vomit on one's brother," Tyrion told him. "Might I have a closer look at your wolf?"

Jon hesitates, nods- and gasps as Tyrion pushes himself off the ledge, falls twelve feet to the ground and lands roughly. Ghost flinches and backs away behind Jon's legs. Tyrion stands and dusts himself off.

"I've frightened the beast," Tyrion groaned. "My apologies."

"He's not afraid," Jon described his pup's behavior.

"He is," Tyrion told him of what he knows. "I am terrifying."

Jon commands his wolf. "Ghost, come here. Come on, boy..."

The pup comes back around front, keeping a wary eye on Tyrion. When Tyrion reaches out to pet him, Ghost bares his fangs in a silent snarl. Tyrion hesitates.

"Sit, Ghost," Jon commanded for his pup to sit. "Hold." He focuses on Tyrion. "You can touch him now. He won't move. I've been training him."

Tyrion kneels and ruffles the white fur between Ghost's ears. "Nice wolf. Niiiiice wolf."

"He's not," Jon smiled a bit. "If I wasn't here, he'd have your throat out."

Tyrion cocks his head and looks Jon over, possibly impressed by the boy's bravado. Ghost is still far too small to tear out anyone's throat. "In that case, you'd best stay close." He stands and looks up at Jon. "I am Tyrion Lannister."

"I know who you are," Jon said.

"You're Ned Stark's bastard, aren't you?" Tyrion asked, but then he noticed that Jon presses his lips together and says nothing. "Did I offend you? Sorry. Perhaps its best I call you a basborn instead rather than 'bastard'. Jeren, for example, doesn't like hearing that. He will get rather furious and will be ready to strike at the one who calls him a bastard."

"Well, Lord Eddard Stark is my father," Jon counted.

Tyrion steps in closer and examines Jon's face. "Yes... you have more of the north in you than your brothers."

Jon tries to hide his pleasure at this observation. "Half brothers."

Tyrion's mouth is fixed in a sardonic grin, but his eyes burn with intensity as he explains something. "Let me give you some advice my friend. Never forget what you are while the rest of the world will not. Make it your strength, and it can never be your weakness. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you."

Jon is in no mood for anyone's advice. "What do you know about being a bastard?"

"All dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes," Tyrion added.

Tyrion saunters back into the feast, whistling to himself. When he opens the door, the light from the hall throws Tyrion's shadow clear across the yard.


	7. Chapter 7 - The Letter

Inside Catelyn's bedchamber, Ned opens the room's high narrow windows. A blast of cold night air blows into the chamber. On the bed, Catelyn pulls the furs up to her chin. Ned breathes deeply, taking the cold into his lungs, staring out into the dark. Then he turns back to face her.

"I'll refuse him," Ned said.

"You cannot," Catelyn pleaded him to reconsider. "You must not."

"You said yourself I could tell him 'no'," Ned continued to go on with his refusal. "I'm a northman. I belong here, not down south in that rats' nest they call a capital."

"He would make our daughter Queen," Catelyn added of what she has plan for Sansa marrying Joffrey.

Ned turns away, facing the darkness again. She softens and is about to go to him when a loud knock comes at the door.

"I gave orders not to be disturbed,"

From the other side of the door, a sentry answers. "It's Maester Luwin calling, my lord. He insists."

Ned slips on a heavy robe. "Send him in."

The door opens and Maester Luwin enters. He waits until the door is shut behind him before speaking.

"My lord, pardon for disturbing your rest," Luwin respectfully apologized. "I have been left a message."

"Been left? By whom?" Ned asked, concerned of this message.

"There was no messenger, my lord," Luwin explained. "Only a carved wooden box, left on a table in my observatory while I slept. This was concealed in a false bottom." He draws a tightly rolled paper from his loose sleeves. Ned holds out his hand.

"Let me have it, then," Ned insisted

"A thousand pardons, my lord," Luwin added more to this message. "The message is marked for the eyes of the Lady Catelyn alone."

Ned isn't used to being denied by anyone below the rank of king. He considers the old man for a second and steps aside, allowing Maester Luwin to place the paper on the bedside table. Luwin bows and begins to retreat.

"Stay," Ned insisted.

Catelyn looks at the blue wax moon-and-falcon seal on the paper with foreboding. "It's from my sister. Something's wrong. Why would she hide the letter? They said she left the capital right after he died."

"Open it," Ned said.

Catelyn breaks the seal. Her eyes move over the words. For a moment, she is confused- then a smile flits across her lips. "She took no chances. When we were girls, we had a private language."

"Can you still read it?" Ned asked.

"Yes..." Catelyn nodded as her smile disappears as she reads.

Catelyn wraps herself in one of the bed furs and pads toward the hearth. She tosses the paper in the fire and watches to make sure it burns through.

"She says Jon Arryn was murdered," Catelyn sounded shaken by this. "By the Lannisters. By the Queen.

The accusation shocks Ned. He tries to rationalize it away.

"Your sister is sick with grief," Ned stated. "She doesn't know what she's saying."

"Lysa isn't easy, but she's never been a fool," Catelyn described about her sister.

"This is madness," Ned sighed.

"You say you love Robert like a brother," Catelyn reminded of his relationship with the King. "Would you leave your brother surrounded by Lannisters?"

Ned looks to Maester Luwin, hoping for a different opinion.

"The Hand of the King has great power, my lord," Luwin described the authority. "Power to investigate. And to punish, if need be."

"You must go south with him," Catelyn deeply insisted for her husband to take on the role as Hand of the King and solve the case of how Jon Arryn was murdered by the Lannisters. "Become his Hand and learn the truth."

"I am not your dog to command, my lady," Ned tried to refuse.

But Ned's words are belied by the resignation in his face. She is right and he knows it. He sits heavily in a chair beside the hearth.

"My father went south once, to answer the summons of a king," Ned remembered. "He never came home again."

"A different time," Luwin recalled the tale. "A different king."

Ned says nothing, watching the flames devour the wood.


	8. Chapter 8 - Prince Joffrey

Inside one of Winterfell's tower rooms, Sansa and Princess Myrcella were both knitting happily together, overseen by Myrcella's ladies-in-waiting, and Sansa's tutor, Septa Mordane. For Arya, she was sitting near the door where her needlework is as grim as Sansa's is perfect, her face as plain as Sansa's is beautiful. She doesn't want to be here. While the Septa fawns over the princess, Arya quietly lays down her knitting and sneaks away.

Bran and Prince Tommen drill in the yard with padded wooden swords. The children are so heavily padded themselves that they look like they've been wrapped in featherbeds. Huffing and puffing, they thump each other under the watchful eye of Ser Rodrik Cassel. A dozen spectators call out encouragements, in which Robb was the loudest among them. Jeren Hill was present as well, but he didn't seem to happy at all. Theon Greyjoy watches with his characteristic wry contempt.

Twenty yards from the others, Jon Snow watches as well, seated alone on a rough wooden bench. Absorbed in the action, he is unaware of Arya's approach until she jumps on his back.

"Shouldn't you be working on your stitches?" Jon asked.

Arya makes a face at him. "I wanted to see them fight. Why aren't you with them?"

"Bastards aren't allowed to damage young princes," Jon said.

Arya watches her little brother Bran whack at Tommen, almost toppling over himself in the process.

"I could do better than Bran," Arya joked. "I'd knock the prince's fat head off."

Jon looks at her with mock shock. Then he takes her arm and examines it, feeling her muscle. He shakes his head. "Too skinny."

She snatches back her arm and glares at him. He messes up her hair. A cheer goes up from the drilling field. Bran has managed to knock Tommen over, in which the prince is rolling in the dust, trying to get up and failing, like a padded turtle. Bran stands at the ready with upraised wooden sword, ready to whack him again once he regains his feet. The spectators laugh until Ser Rodrik ends it. He yanks the prince to his feet.

"Well fought," Ser Rodrik said and then turns to Prince Joffrey and Robb Stark. "Will you go another round?"

"Gladly," Robb nodded in satisfaction.

Joffrey, however, looks bored; he remains among his men. "This is a child's game."

"That's because you're children," Theon corrected.

"Robb may be a child, but I'm a prince," Joffrey spat in utter disgust. "And I'm tired of swatting at Starks with a play sword."

"Joffrey, this is something you need to do," Jeren said giving him a gateful stare. "If you want to be king, you need to learn more on how to fight with a sword if your ever going to be in a battle."

"Who said you can speak?" Joffrey scoffed

"My own, actually," Jeren glared at him.

"Well, as your prince, I order you to be silent," Joffrey said in command. "Speak one more word, and I'll have your tongue ripped out."

"Is that a threat Joffrey?" Jeren asked, not sounding too afraid of his cousin. "You should be careful what you say to others when you meet them. That act of behavior could get you into a lot of trouble. Besides, you don't want to embarrass yourself to your future wife."

"You really have a big mouth," Joffrey spat. "No wonder why your still a bastard. A bastard born to a dwarf."

Jeren was very irritated for what Joffrey had just said to him. He never likes being called that or even hearing others calling his father a dwarf which is out of line.

Robb didn't like the way Joffrey was talking to his cousin, so he decided to back him up and giving the prince a very hateful stare. "You got more swats than you gave. Afraid?"

"Oh, terrified," Joffrey pretended to be scared. "I might get a splinter."

The Lannister men all laugh while Jon and Arya watch with contempt. Jon overheard everything on what Joffrey said to Jeren. He can see why Jeren never like going back south since he couldn't stand his cousin's childish behavior.

"What a ruthless piece of carcass," Jon spat in utter disgust.

"What do you suggest?" Ser Rodrik asked.

"Live steel," Joffrey suggested.

"Done," Robb agreed.

Ser Rodrik puts a hand on Robb's shoulder. "Too dangerous. I'll let you go with tourney swords with blunted edges."

That was when a muscled knight with dark brown hair and terrible burn scars on his face pushes forward. The man's name was Sandor Clegane, who was also called the "The Hound" and Joffrey's bodyguard.

"This is your prince," Sandor said. "Who are you to tell him he can't have an edge on his sword?"

"He thinks he can fight me with a weapon of match," Robb grinned.

"I killed a man at twelve," Sandor recalled of a story. "And not with a blunt sword."

Arya watches with worry as Robb bristles, his pride wounded.

"Let me do it," Robb spoke to Ser Rodrik. "I can beat him."

"Beat him with a tourney blade, then," Rodrik sighed.

Joffrey shrugs and starts to turn away. "Come and see me, north boy, once your balls thaw."

Jeren was very displeased by this and couldn't stand all the laughing from a number of Lannister soldiers. He could see that Robb was now losing his temper for the insults he got from the prince.

"I'll cut yours off, you little piss-haired," Robb threatened him.

Arya's and Jon's eyes widen in surprise. That was when Theon seizes Robb's arm to keep him away from the prince. Joffrey feigns a yawn and turns to his younger brother.

"Come, Tommen," Joffrey chuckled cruelty. "Playtime is over. Leave the children to their games."

More laughter from the Lannisters, more curses from Robb. Theon continues to hold Robb back, now aided by Ser Rodrik, until the Lannister party is safely away. Far from being frightened, Arya was thrilled. This is where she wants to be, among the rough and brawling boys.

"You'd better get back," Jon suggested.

"I hate needlework!" Arya loudly complained. "It's not fair!"

"Nothing is fair," Jon sighed, messing her hair again and walks away, forcing Ghost to follow his master silently.

Reluctantly, Arya turns in the other direction. In the distance, she sees Septa Mordane waiting for her, along with Lady Catelyn herself. Neither looks pleased. Arya sighs and goes to take what she's got coming.


End file.
